


Fate, Chaotic

by surprisingrice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: AU timeline?, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Jotun!Loki, Post-TDW, Some spoilers through Ragnarok, The Avengers - Freeform, Unplanned Pregnancy, allllll the tropes, but also bamf avengers, but in a new sexy way, but not like you'd expect, ragnarok?, tasertricks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5310767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisingrice/pseuds/surprisingrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy's irreverent prayers catch Loki's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Complicated

Darcy huffed and fell onto her bed. It caught her in a cool hug, and she didn’t fight the feeling of sleep. It had been god knows how long since she last had the opportunity to relax in her parents’ home. It didn’t seem right that she was here- not wholly. But things were calm now. Peace had come, something Jane had tried to revel in by shacking up with her boyfriend after the Ultron incident.  
This included weekend getaways (leaving Darcy with no work) and lots of sex around the apartment (leaving Darcy to avoid the cooties). It wasn’t that Darcy didn’t have a place of her own... It was just that she had kind of given it up after Jane invited her to take the spare room in her lovely flat. Something that both Nordic Muscles and Jane had overlooked in their sex-a-thon.  
And so, Darcy made it back in time for thanksgiving a bit earlier than usual. The flight was very easy compared to the last several times she’d done so under the “employment” of SHIELD. There weren’t any attractive and off-putting-ly tight-assed agents always in the corner of her eye. She’d waited long enough to buy expensive candy and doze off. And then, a few hours later, she was breathing in the damp air of the Pacific Northwest. She hadn’t known she’d missed it.

When she opened her eyes, it was the gentle aroma of petrichor and sound of rain that roused her from deep, jet-lagged sleep. Somewhere in the midst of it, she’d toed off her socks and leggings. Her head was buried under her old pillow. With a deep sigh, she rolled herself over and stared at the ceiling.  
There was so much time now. She doubted martians would be invading Earth anytime so soon, and Jane was likely to take full advantage of an extended Winter Vacation with Thor and Mjolnir. She wouldn’t mind the long break, except she was going to spend the whole time avoiding her mother and extended family. She hoped they were enjoying it.  
“I’m not ungrateful, pal, really.” She muttered in the general direction (she thought) of Asgard. “It’s just that the fruit of your loins must have some sort of a spell over Jane, because he’s pretty and noble and all.... but he does kind of fit the big jock blond stereotype, if you know what I mean. I don’t mean to shit talk your own son, but maybe you can put in a word with Santa Claus. I deserve something extra good this year.”  
Her phone buzzed with a text from her mother, full of random emojis lacking context. “At least send me a sex partner with mythological stamina. It’s the least you could do, seeing as I’m the one making two a.m. poptart runs.” She didn’t add that they were for herself. If big ol’ papa Odin was listening, he’d get the point regardless. 

+

Someone was listening. Loki had tuned in when the endless stream of Nordic prayers of Aesir and Midgardians parted and threatened to drown out her irreverent jargon. He’d have stopped her heart with Odin’s power upon seeing that the disturbance was from a drunken SHIELD employee-- but the familiar name of his brother stopped him. Since then, he’d listened into Darcy Lewis’s “prayers”, gaining a knowledge of Thor’s personal life and finding entertainment in the middle of tedious council meetings. 

She was more frazzled than usual today, he noted. Her usual sarcasm was bitter, and he knew without knowing she was restless. His consciousness watched her toss off her t-shirt and thumb off her panties. The sigh she released when unhooking her bra would’ve been sexy, had she not flopped back onto her bed. She lay there, staring at the ceiling until the wind and misting rain picked up, sending goose bumps over her skin. Instead of going to the window and closing it, she closed her eyes and slowly stroked the underside of her breasts. 

Loki quirked an eyebrow when she shuddered and dragged her fingernails along the bones framing her torso. It was almost too much to resist. She was lying before him. He could do any number of mischievous things.... but he could hardly swallow, much less move. She was weaving a spell around the room. The rain sprinkled her thighs, leaving streaks as she spread her fingers over them. 

When she slide one finger in, he could hear it. He noticed his painful erection when she brought her other hand down from her breast to her clit. He Dismissed Odin’s form in Asgard and throbbed while her fingers aggressively reached for the right spots. She was keening and gulping air like a fish. It wasn’t a particularly attractive sight, but it was erotic. 

At last he freed himself. He pulled the head of his cock in light, massaging tugs while she pushed her heels off the floor, squirming frantically. He matched her panting breath while pumping himself, wanting to replace the fingers that curled inside her. He surprised himself with the strong spurts of cum that would’ve landed on her chest and face had he truly been floating above her and not in Asgard. It was the moaned sigh that escaped her throat at her own climax. 

He looked down at the rug before Odin’s hearth. It was a very treasured gift from someone Loki couldn’t remember at the moment. He flicked his hand and the mess was gone, though the gasping Brunette with sin in her prayers was set in his thoughts.


	2. Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later.....

It wasn’t his first time in this cell. He had spent a lifetime in it while the very woman in front of him had been dying. She wasn’t the woman who’d slapped him all that time ago. The woman in front of him wore the marks of a warrior better than even Sif herself. Her hair was knotted and singed beyond hope of recovery. Her midgardian clothes were torn and covered in drying blood, though the great red cape thrown over her shoulders and the sword clenched tightly in her once-delicate fingers matched the spirit of the valkyrie she was currently radiating. 

“I hope you’re happy,” Jane Foster spat. “I hope that you’re just so goddamned pleased with yourself. I hope they kill you. I hope they kill you and he wakes up after they’ve already done it!”

Loki laughed. “Odinson’s princess will get her way?”

With a scream, she hurled the sword at his face. It clattered on the floor anti-climatically, but it didn’t dim her rage. She spat on the screen before him while he watched from above with amusement. Apparently a penchant for losing control was something Thor and his lover had in common.

“You better hope I don’t. I’ll make every fucking myth about your punishments come true.” The words had no sooner left her lips before a sob brought her to her knees. 

Loki stepped back, hiding his surprise under a sneered chuckle. 

“Don’t you care? Don’t you fucking care he’s the last person alive that loves you?” Jane’s sobbed were almost incoherent. Almost. “If he doesn’t wake up, I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you, I swear.”

“So you said.” He sighed. 

As hoped, she stopped crying to scream at him again. This time, Thor was thankfully left out of the conversation. “And your father?”

“My “father,”” Loki spat back. “Is no longer a concern.”

“Would that be the Alien or the Pirate?” A voice he wasn’t pleased to hear jerked him from one annoyance to the next.

“Probably both,” The Widow replied, pulling Jane to her feet by the elbow. “He’s got a lot of red in his ledger.”

“Good point.” The Iron man held out a midgardian bag of snacks to Thor’s woman. “Aw. Nice to see you too, Daddy Issues. How’s attempted world domination treating you this time?”

Loki bit back his deflection-- and he had a few to choose from. It was one thing to poke holes in Jane Foster’s fragile defense, but another to handle Thor’s midgardian band of misfits out numbered. 

“Jane?” The familiar figure of Darcy lewis entered Asgard’s prison. “They need you up in the throne-room thingy.”

She walked with unwavering confidence for one on an unfamiliar planet, in the presence of heroes and villains alike. He couldn’t hear what was being said between the Midgardians, but he had a feeling it would only further tangle his battle for self preservation now that Thanos had stripped away the veil of Odin’s power he’d hidden himself under for years. Nevermind the darkness and pain that had cracked his magic when it was lifted. Nevermind the violent reunion between him and Thor that had brought destruction throughout Asgard. 

This was the first encounter with Darcy Lewis he’d had in the flesh. 

+

“I’m gonna repeat this one more time-- and it will be the last time-- before I resort to other methods.” Nick Fury’s hands are folded in his lap. His words on edge, but demeanor calm. 

Loki knows the man could play this chess game all day. But so can he.

“You won’t like the other methods.” The Black Widow says

“Especially if you dislike large, green men.” The soldier adds. 

Loki rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. Midgardian architecture has fascinated him since his last time on Earth. They were likely somewhere deep underground. He knew he could figure it out easily. But there was no fun in that. And, he winces, he doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to those who may have had his magic traced. There was no knowing If Odin was alive, or if Thanos knew Loki had ever been hiding there. No, magic would have to be rationed until he could speak to Thor.

Nick Fury sighs. And then speaks to no one in particular, “Alright. Bring her in. Before I lose my patience.”

Immediately the three humans left the room. Loki waits. Eventually someone brings him food. It’s bland and he drinks the water, picking through half the tray with distaste. 

The man who cleared the food holds the door to let Darcy Lewis into the interrogation room. She’s wearing heels and a professional outfit that hugs her hips. She pulls the metal chair out swiftly, and tosses her curled hair over her shoulder, revealing an earpiece. He puzzles over whether or not he was meant to see it or if she’s unaware of having done it. She drops a file onto the table, not seeming to care that it’s contents come loose.

“You’re big muscle’s baby brother, huh?” Her posture and tone don’t match the outfit. “Sorry,” She opens the file and traces something on a piece of paper. “Thor Odinson. And you’re.... Locky?”

She tries to read his expression, her mouth open ever so slightly.

“No- Loki. Got it. Not really good with the Scandinavian names. Or Norsk. Whatever the correct term is, sorry. Give me Irish, though, and I can even do some dancing for you.”

He quirks an eyebrow unwittingly, thinking of a night not so long ago where he remembers her dancing quite provocatively with her reflection in a mirror. Admittedly, he eyes the expanse of skin peeking through the lapels of her blazer, it wasn’t her dancing that had been interested but what she’d been wearing. Or lack thereof.

“Hey! Tall, dark, and evil?” She flaps the file in his face. “I’m up here. And I’m only going to be able to help you out, if you help me out. Okay?”

“What can I do for you, Darcy Lewis?”

He watches in amusement as she tries to piece together when she introduced herself. “Um, well. You could start by telling me your side of the story. And then maybe I can see about getting you a lawyer or something.”

Loki laughs. He doesn’t care if he frightens her by it. The last thing that can help him in this world is midgard’s concern for human rights. 

“Yep. I’m hilarious. That’s why SHIELD keeps me around.” She readjusts her posture.

He leans across the table towards her, to be sure she can see the meaning in his eyes. “I’m certain that isn’t why.”

She blinks and tugs up the neckline of her dress. Then she opens the file and spreads papers across the table. “Here’s the options SHIELD is willing to take, given Thor’s opinion on how to best help Asgard--”

“Thor is awake?” Loki sits up.

“No thanks to you. Shit!” She sits up straight wincing at the noise coming from her earpiece. “Okay, forget about Thor.” 

“Easily done.” Though his mind is racing. If Thor is prepared to trust SHIELD enough to interfere, he must know what damage Thanos could cause. He must have believed him in that.

“You could at least pretend to not be plotting world domination,” she looks bored. “It’s making it hard for me to not want the Hulk to fuck you in the ass.”

“My apologies.” He says it to placate her. But he’s curious as to why she cares.

Darcy Lewis goes on to explain Midgardian ethics and law. He can tell she’s educated, though her colloquialisms tell that she’s inexperienced in the hogwash she’s feeding him.

“Darcy,” He says lowly. “We both know my brother and his friends have other ideas for me, and that you are wasting all of our time.”

He can’t tell if it’s the interruption that throws her, or the familiar way he’d spoken to her. 

“Alright.” She scoops up her papers in fistfulls, shoving them in a backpack he hadn’t noticed before. “Nick,” She looks directly into the wall to his left. “This isn’t working. It’s nice SHIELD wants to use my potential or whatever, but I’ll just take the blood money I know you’ve got.”

The Archer opens the door, apparently having expected to come in and have to clean things up. 

“Hey,” Darcy acknowledges the man.

“Hello, Lewis.” The archer replies. 

“And you,” Darcy turns back to him. “I don’t know just how deeply fucked up by your daddy issues you are, but c’mon. Grow the fuck up. It’s rude not to accept help from people. Especially when they’re using their printer money up on you.”

“Isn’t it rude to betray your friend to offer help to me?” Loki knows he has her before she even returns to the door swinging closed.

“Are you referring to Jane?” 

The Archer sighs, dropping his head as he takes a seat.

“Miss Lewis, you are dismissed.” A voice says from nowhere.

“Wait, no, are you calling me a bad friend? Because I tried to get you some food and a blanket?” Darcy stands in the doorway, her foot propping the door open. “That’s-- That’s.... You tried to destroy the world. More than once. Also patricide, probably. Probably twice, I hear. So. Yeah.”

“That makes me a “bad friend”?” Loki watches the uncharacteristic sight of the woman before him getting angry. 

“It makes you a murderer. So I’m pretty sure that any friendship advice you have to give is irrelevant.” She speaks over the warnings from nowhere and the Archer moving to close the door.

“And you avoided plans with your friend Jane Foster for months because you were jealous of the time she was spending with her boyfriend. You’d touch yourself while the phone would ring and say “fuck you, boss” while fucking yourself with your fingers. When they celebrated her departure with her fiance to live in his realm, you avoided them while pampering yourself at home and drinking yourself to sleep. So even if I am the one with ‘daddy issues’ and have murdered, I am not the one who’s pushing away the friends who forgot her. I’m not the one punishing Jane Foster by trying to help the man who broke his brother’s heart.”

Loki watched in satisfaction as Darcy Lewis looked sick and the Archer stiffened into the professional Agent he’d seen before. He could sense the fire he’d started. All he had to do was wait for it to spread through the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's professional backstory will come in more later, as will what happened with Thor and Jane. Thank you for your comments on the last chapter, they really do help me to think of ideas and scenarios to come, so keep giving me feedback! 
> 
> I'll admit I've had a rough day (I need new anti-depressants) so if anything is unclear, I can always go back and edit-- or maybe I did it on purpose and it will make sense later! ~muahaha~
> 
> anyyyyyway. I feel crazy. more soon :)


	3. Run

“Jane!” Darcy didn’t bother to knock. “I quit SHIELD. I’m coming back to work as your intern.”

Jane Foster had apparently fallen asleep on her couch. Darcy knows she hadn’t been sleeping well since she and Thor brought Loki to Avengers headquarters. Thor himself had even expressed concern about Jane’s nightmares. So, she almost felt bad. Almost.

“Your boyfriend’s little brother is a real pervert. A pervert asshole.”

The golden highlights in the astrophysicist’s hair caught the sunset while she sat up, watching Darcy pace as she retold her story. 

“....And so you can tell Thor, I don’t care what happens, but that-- what?” Darcy paused, watching her friend who’d usually be chomping at the bit at this point. “I don’t like this. Since when am I the one freaking out, and you’re the one looking like you’re dreaming of a glass of wine?”

Jane shook her head. “Sorry, Darce. I’ll talk to Thor.” 

Darcy sits down next to her friend, remembering Loki’s knowledge of the deeply buried, bitter parts of her. She sighs. “So. You went to visit your fiance on Asgard. SHIELD tried to put my useless undergrad degree to use, failing miserably for like three months.” She nudges Jane, “Wanna talk about it?”

The weariness in Jane’s sigh worries her. When Heimdall appeared to Darcy to deliver Jane’s distress message, She’d practically forced her way into Nick Fury’s office, demanding the Avengers (and her) take a trip to Asgard. The place had been “like Helmsdeep” as Dr. Banner had said. They’d found Jane and Sif fighting Loki over Thor’s body. The Avengers pulled on their rubber gloves and cleaned up the place. She was told to wait for the big kids to come get her. 

“I heard this screaming, it was awful.” Jane tucks her hair back. “We got there, and I thought he was dead....” She sighs. “I keep seeing it.”

Darcy nods. “I’m sorry.”

“If you guys hadn’t gotten there, we all would’ve died.” Jane’s gaze is far too steady, and Darcy feels guilt for all the times she’d felt badly for being left behind. 

“Aw, don’t look at me like that,” She teases. “All I did was make coffee runs and deliver messages.”

Jane laughs. “You really want to be my intern again? Thor and I will be going back to Asgard, since Odin is gone, and--”

Darcy makes her decision: “Yeah. I’m stuck with you all for life, thanks to SHIELD’s gags. But I’d rather be working as your friend than working for the suits.”

Jane Foster smiles a genuine smile, and Darcy wishes Thor was there to witness it.

+

Loki would’ve expected to be lifted off his feet by the collar, had he known Thor was coming. He only tenses slightly as his head meets the stark white walls of his cell.

“I take it you got my invitation?” 

Thor’s brow draws, his chest heaves. “If by invitation you mean dishonoring lady Darcy--”

“None of your other friends were going to summon you for me.” He presses himself away from Thor’s fist, but the movement only succeeds in his brother readjusting his grip, earning him another smack against the wall. It isn’t painful so much as the situation is demeaning. “Put me down, Thor.” His silver tongue adds gentleness he doesn’t feel.

Thor’s eyes drop, and with them, he allows Loki to collapse. Righting himself, he watches the noble silhouette in front of him diminish. The glow of the Aesir does nothing to erase Thor’s weariness. “I grieved you.”

Loki chuckles. “I’m sure.”

Thor’s exhaustion wanes. “Where is our father?”

“I have no father.” Loki has no trouble spitting the words at Thor’s feet.

“Loki,” Thor stands. “In his stead, I rule Asgard. I have betrayed my people to save your life. Do not make me regret it.”

He thinks of Frigga and her unwavering loyalty to both him and Thor. In this moment, Thor’s resemblance to her is so striking Loki has to change his tactics. Thor’s looks may remind him of Frigga, but his personality is equally influenced by Odin. He hates Thor for having both of them in his blood, for having both their love and favor.

“What you have done to the people of Asgard, I do not care. Why am I here when you could’ve so easily kept me in the dungeons after you awoke?”

“They wanted you dead for your crimes. ....I have decided that for impersonating Odin, in your arrogance and deception.... I have banished you to Earth.” Thor says the words not looking at Loki, surely feeling the violence he wishes upon him. Loki hisses out all the scorn he can, making sure Thor knows how little he cares for Thor’s “mercy”, that he’d rather die than be stuck on Midgard.

“I felt your pain in the moment Odin’s veil left you, Loki.” Thor thunders over him. “I know you want recognition and respect and I know you’d welcome death if you didn’t also fear it!” 

Thor has Frigga’s eyes. And Loki hates him for it.

“I know Odin is alive, that there is some evil that has latched on to you--”

Loki evades Thor and sits on the cot he was in beforehand. “I’m not sure how you’ve deluded yourself so steeply this time, brother. Even with all your desire for the good of all, you underestimate what I am capable of.”

“You didn’t plan to reveal yourself to me. There was a fourth presence in that room. Odin, yourself, and another being. It was them that split you from Odin, wasn’t it? Who was it?” Thor is grasping now, Loki feels him unraveling.

“You must have hit your head harder than I thought,” He sneers. “Or is your groveling a sign that you are beginning to recognize your own incompetence?” 

Thor sighs. “I will be returning to Asgard with Jane to mend our people and search for our Father.”

Loki growls at the red cape making to leave the cell. 

“Eir, upon my request, has done what she can to track your magic, and Heimdall will be watching as well. Other than them, Asgard believes you dead by my hand. Should you attempt to hide or return....” Thor lets the sentence trail off, his indecision evident to both of them. 

+

5 days later...

Darcy wakes up to a siren. She counts at least 19 (give or take) different obnoxious and ear damaging wails by the time she pulls on some decent clothes and opens her door. Jane, having gone back to Asgard, gave her free reign of her and Thor’s suite in Avengers headquarters, which was closer to “work” for her anyway. Right now she was wishing she had stayed in her crummy apartment (45 minutes away not including the time to find parking and get clearance into the building) rather than being dragged into whatever stupid drill this was.

A few straggling figures in black ran to the staircase. It was four a.m, and fuck it, she was taking the elevator.

Which turned out to not be the best idea she’d ever had. 

She doesn’t know how long the elevator had been stalled, and hurries to hit the “open doors” button. She groans. In front of her is concrete, except for a small gap by her feet she’s almost certain she can’t fit through. After yelling a few times, she gives in, and tries to crawl out. She’ll have to take the stairs and get yelled at by some big shot in aviators and SHIELD themed pyjamas for being late. 

Her legs kick, trying to think of the best way to land....

Then her foot gets caught. 

She screams in surprise, and then tugs. No give. 

“It isn’t every day one finds themselves in a situation like this.” The voice is smooth.... and flirtatious.

“Yeah, well. Enjoy the view, because I’m gonna kick your ass for scaring me like that, jeezus.” Darcy tries to push herself out more. 

“Struggling, are we?” 

The gentle hum of gravel in the man’s chest makes her flush. “Nope. This is just how women in their 20s like to get out of elevators. It’s the new planking. Actually, instead of standing there why don’t you insta’ this moment? Hashtag Darcy Lewis’s ass. Be sure to tag Commander Fury while you’re at it.”

The last sentence had barely left her mouth when the floor gave and the hand pulled her down. Her landing wasn’t graceful, and she watched the elevator plummet in her wake as a large boom shook the floor.

Her expletives cut short when she saw who’d rescued her. 

Loki, Thor’s brother, in all his glory was looking at the ceiling. 

“Well. Thanks for the rescue. I’m gonna leave before I get caught up in whatever this is...” Darcy pushed to her feet, but didn’t get far as he grabbed her upper arm.

The SHIELD agents coming from the other end of the hall shouted their protests for her. She wasn’t following well. They were shouting at Loki, and Loki was talking over them. She caught up quickly, though, when one hand grabbed her throat, the other lightly tugging her hair at the crown of her head.

“Okayyy, let’s just give the man what he wants, guys.” Darcy said, looking at the surprised men and women in front of her. 

“My apologies, Darcy Lewis,” Loki whispered in her ear. “Our meetings have never been ideal.”

“Yeah, well, not my fault.” Darcy grunted, standing on the balls of her feet to give the agents a death glare. Why weren’t they moving?

As if reading her mind, one of the agents fired their weapon. At the same time, the building shook from the very foundations, and Loki adjusted his grip to her shoulders.

“Hold on,” He commanded.

Then all went dark. 

+

When the lights come on, they are pale and blue. She is cold.

“Where are we?” 

She turns on the man next to her so fast her neck burns. “You don’t know where we are?”

“Of course not,” Loki rolls his eyes. “I found our destination within your memory.”

Darcy takes a second glance around the room in front of her. It is the cabin she and Jane stayed in while the very man next to her tried to destroy New York. Tromso.

“Norway. You took us to fucking Norway.” 

His expression is pleased, almost impressed with himself. Darcy feels sick. All the things he’d said to her only a week ago come back to her. She quiets the part of her mind that are fearful as to how he knew the things he did... things she’d barely admit to herself that happened. 

A fire begins to burn in the wood-stove. Neither of them had kindled it. This is fine. I’m just shacked up in the middle of nowhere with a perverted witch. 

“Okay, what do you want?” She asks the minute Loki has moved far enough away from her to be brave. 

He scans the house, barely acknowledging her presence. “From you? Or are you asking to know what I plan?”

Darcy stares. Loki’s gaze finally rests on her. 

“How did you know all that stuff about me?” She blurts.

Loki’s eyes glint, his smile accentuating his cheekbones. “When one prays they put themselves in the hands of the god they pray to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going straight to hell for the misappropriation of Mother Teresa's quote at the end. Dear lord. This is why you don't drink and write fanfiction, kids.


	4. Thorns

Christmas, a year earlier.

 

Darcy ducked out of the party, sneaking a bottle of champagne with her to her room. Her mother and her tarty friends had their music up loud, and Darcy had a feeling there was an hour or so left of party noise until her mother took the latest boyfriend and made another type of noise entirely. She shudders.

 

“God jul to you, too, Odin.” She mutters, putting her headphones on and turning up her own music. The heavy beats and entrancing melodies pull her away from the underlying pulse of frustration with her life at the moment. “Would it kill your almighty-ness to give a post-grad a sense of purpose for christmas, I mean--” She gulps champagne from the bottle instead of her glass, “Not that I dislike being an aimless, free-spirit.... But it’s like.... I’m just this background character, y’know?”

 

She pulled the lights, dancing to the music in her ears as she slurred through her prayer.

 

“What’s like, the Santa of Asgard? ‘Cause like, I’m sure I shouldn’t be talking to Mr. Odinson, but I didn’t think to ask Thor, so...”  She trips out of her heels. “Anyway. I’m just feeling like this drifting.... purposeless.... something. Now, I know I’m really great, I just don’t see the next steps. Where’s my yellow brick road? Jane’s got her Scarecrow a la Viking, Iron-TinMan, and Cowardly Hulk. But apparently Toto can’t traverse the galaxy-- do you get what I’m saying? What’s Toto supposed to do now?”

 

“Perhaps drinking some water would be a good step in the right direction.”

 

A velvety voice alerts her to the fact that her headphones were now in the hands of a strange man. She doesn’t remember who’s son or neighbor he is, or how he got into her room. But she knows enough to feel indignant at the intrusion.

 

“Hey, mister. This is a private residence, and you’ll need a warrant before you collect two-hundred dollars,” She puts her hands on her hips.

 

The strange-- albeit handsome-- man pulls the bottle of champagne out of her fist. “You’re thought process is even more fragmented than usual.” He says it with a bright grin, despite the scolding tone of his voice.

 

Darcy scoffs. “It’s a wonder you survived this much of my mom’s party then, she put duct tape over the taps in the kitchen so people’d have to drink booze.”

 

The man chuckles, making to help her to the sofa, she refuses though. She doesn’t know how, but suddenly she’s talking about music, and then they’re listening to music over her stereo to drown out the lingering party below.

 

He laughs from somewhere in his chest. “Your dancing is highly entertaining.”

 

She tosses her hair and rolls her eyes. “You’ve just walked into a dance off.” She pulls him up from the sofa, pushing off the coat and green scarf poking at him to loosen up. “Now who’s entertaining?”

 

“Darcy, Darcy...” His rasping chuckle quiets, removing her hands from trying to force a shimmy out of his shoulders. “I don’t have much more time.”

 

She grabs her abandoned glass of champagne, nearly flat from it’s abandoned half hour. “Alrighty, off you go to your car where you listen to boring music, and will drive to your boring house, where you’ll brush your boring teeth...” She waves him towards the door, with his coat and scarf in hand.

 

“It’s good to finally meet you Darcy.” His gaze is steady.

 

Perhaps it is the alcohol, but she thinks he blurs while he stands in the doorframe. The knob slips through his fingers, then he clenches them, a look of concentration coming over him.

 

“I wish I didn’t have to go.”

 

Darcy shrugs. “Are you single?”

 

He tilts his chin and raises his brows. “Darcy Lewis.... You wait until now to ask that?”

 

She waves her hand uncaringly. It feels heavy. “Dancing with you was an act of charity.” She swears he’s glowing. Though her head is fuzzy.

 

“Look,” His fingers tilt her chin up where she sees mistletoe she hadn’t noticed earlier.

 

She curses her mother.

 

The fingers he brushes over her cheek are so light that she questions whether or not she is dreaming him.

 

“I bet many a lover has known your perfume, felt your skin, and I--”

 

She cuts him off: “Ew. Did you just say ‘lover’? That word is such a turn off, buddy--”

 

He kisses her. And for a moment she’s washed in warmth, feeling the world fade. She focuses on his lips.... and feels nothing.

 

She opens her eyes.

 

Her doorway is empty, and she is alone again.

 

+

 

The Present.

 

Darcy is eating a bowl of cereal, trying to get the wifi to work on her cell. Loki lets her know he’s awake by having it vanish from her palm in a burst of sparks.

 

“Seriously?!” She asks, slamming her hands on the table.

 

Loki looks over his shoulder, feigning surprise.

 

“Hilarious. Give it back!”

 

He shrugs. “I don’t plan on being found by my brother and his friends quite yet.”

 

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Should’ve thought about that before you broke out of prison. You’ve just guaranteed him unleashing myeuh myeuh on your ass.”

 

“Mjolnir.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“And I did not break out. I was presented with an opportunity to escape, and I took it.”

 

“Yeah. By destroying Avengers headquarters.”

 

“If you were listening, you’d know--”

 

“I don’t have to. You’re a terrorist--”

 

“Is everything that ever comes out of your mouth completely--”

 

“Well you’d know, mister ‘I use my powers to spy on girls naked’--”

 

“I do not--”

 

“So I don’t think--”

 

“You know nothing--”

 

Their overlapping dialogue halts with Darcy’s scream of frustration, throwing her half finished cereal bowl into the kitchen where it shatters a good two meters from Loki.

 

Both of them steam. Loki’s breath hitches, and he crosses the kitchen, backing her into the table.

“I do not have to explain to you my life, and who I am. I did not have to rescue you, or bring you with me.”

 

“Then why did you?” She tries not to be frightened of him, raising her chin and meeting his eyes.

 

Loki can smell her shampoo. She has caught him. It was temptation, pure temptation. Or perhaps it was the fear of aching loneliness and darkness haunting him from a fall that sent him into madness. He swallows. “Because I could not stop myself.”

 

She is scared then. Things she’s refused to acknowledge about the situation she’s in crawl up the back of her legs and settles in her stomach. She sees her body folded in the trunk of a car, then on the cool metal slab in a mortuary where a cop explains to her mother she has alien sperm growing out of her chest.

 

And, goddamn it, despite it all her heart skips and she notices scents she’s never smelled before radiating from him.

 

“If you’re gonna kill me, do it now, then.”

 

He takes a step back, almost shaking his head. “I’m not going to waste my time with this any longer.”

 

“Fine!” Darcy throws her hands up in the air, following him down the hallway to the study Jane had once occupied. “I’ll just sit around making you food and doing your laundry! You should go ahead and brainwash me, then, because I suck at all of that!”

 

He slams the door in her face.

 

+

 

Loki could destroy the entire library before him, the girl on the other side of the doorway shouting nonsense provoking him. He had to have control now. Cloaking his escape without Heimdall and Eir noticing had proven difficult. And now he’d have to cover his tracks with the incident of Darcy’s phone.

 

By now Thor would know who was after him, upon seeing the desolation of SHIELD. He would not fault Loki for hiding.

 

He would fault him for stealing Dr. Foster’s assistant, however.

He groaned. He’d been stupid. She was a liability now. Worse, a distraction. He had three options: return her, get rid of her, or keep her. He couldn’t possibly return her. It was too much of a risk. Thanos would find her eventually, after SHIELD did. If Thanos got her, he might as well kill her....

 

The thought chilled him, and he swallowed it. No, he’d protect her. Keep her safe as long as he could. She had too many of his magical fingerprints lingering in her wake. He’d spent too long studying her, being amused and aroused by her. Another groan tore through the very muscles of his gut. Guilt was not something he’d felt in a very, very long time.

 

Voyeurism was something he’d allowed himself as escape while he tried the rule he’d wanted for so long... she’d been a release from the slow realization he no longer wanted the throne. He was made for mischief, chaos. The eroticism, the chemistry he felt with her wreaked havoc on his sensibilities....

 

It was quiet.

 

He opens the study door, waiting for the brunette to launch herself with claws drawn at his face. He hunts her, walking quietly through the creaking cabin as he had with his family on Asgard centuries ago. The den and kitchen are still dark, save the light blue glow off the snow through the open windows. He finds her in a room off of the loft, sleeping on top of a bed still pristinely made. There are no draperies in this room either, but despite it’s lack of personality the small woman seems to have claimed it as her own. The tap on the tub has been left on in the adjoining bathroom, so he switches it off. It’s nearly entirely full, steaming.

 

Darcy’s sleeping figure calms him. It is a sight familiar to him, a sight he’d become aware of through her drifting off in the middle of rants during all those months in her mother’s home. She hadn’t meant them as prayers at first. But slowly, they’d become something she’d needed. A diary of insecurities. He now knew her worries almost as well as he knew his own. It was unfair, and he’d taken advantage of her. He only had himself to blame for entwining his fate with his.

 

+

 

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. So she only had herself to blame for letting her guard down. She wasn’t sure how long she’d dozed off, but she knew it could only be one person to turn off the tap in the other room and drain the tub. She tried to remain still while he watched her.

 

“This is it,” she thought when she felt the bed dip slightly. “I’m dead. I’m going to have aliens eating their way out of my womb and I’ll end up preserved in a jar for forensic pathologists to study.”

 

Then he kissed her forehead. She flooded with warmth and the feel of his closeness betrayed every instinct of sense she’d ever learned to feel. “You foil me, Darcy. This is a disaster.”

By the time he’d left, she was shaking. She sat up the minute he closed the door, afraid she was going to be sick. She paced the floor, trying to make sense of things, but the only images coming to her mind were of Christian Grey and Edward Cullen. It did nothing to make her feel better. He’d kidnapped her, he’d somehow spied on her. Not to mention he’d try to take over the world and impersonated Thor’s dad.

 

Resolved, she flung the door open, finding him downstairs, watching snow fall outside the large den window. “Hey, Loki!”

 

He didn’t seem surprised at all when she advanced on him. And seemed even less surprised when she slapped him.

 

“You’re this big evil villain, huh? And for whatever reason, you thought you’d just stalk me for a bit of fun. And according to what I hear, you’ve got this really shitty backstory. So you’re going to sit here and explain to me what your deal is.”

 

Loki turned to her, his voice dark and quiet. “Why should I do that?”

 

Darcy took a deep breath and let it go in a rush. “Because there’s nothing better to do, and I don’t understand why I matter and it’s freaking me out!” She amended herself. “If you’re going to keep me here after everything you said, I get to know.”

 

After a long moment of silence, Loki nods his head.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tricky chapter. Hopefully the holiday fluff helps everyone through the push to winter break, though <3  
> Feedback is always lovely, and I love hearing people's thoughts about what's happened or the pairing in general. Thank you to all those who left kudos as well :)


	5. Snow

Darcy showers in an attempt to escape the uneasiness beneath her skin. The story Loki had told her by firelight seemed too fantastical for this world. Then again, Thor was as real as Loki, and maybe it was true.

She squeezed some of Jane’s long forgotten shampoo into her palm and tried not to feel as queasy as the flowery, fruity scent made her. Or maybe it was the crack in his voice when he told her about falling through space and time, his flesh being torn off of him that made her feel this way. Maybe it was the knowledge that something much more evil than Loki was out to ignite chaos. 

It had felt like something out of the Hobbit, her sitting across the room from him with only embers to illuminate his dark nordic figure. His hair didn’t shine in the firelight, but seemed to absorb it. Every shadow on his face telling of the fear he didn’t express. She hadn’t meant to be taken in, to believe him. But somehow, by listening to his voice and staring into the fire, she knew he wasn’t lying.

“Sure, Darcy. Believe the guy who’s basically lies incarnate.” She scrubbed at her scalp, pretending that she could was the nonsense out.

It was seven a.m. when she stepped out of the shower and decided to go make herself a cup of coffee. She hadn’t even hoped for sleep after the story he told. He’d gotten up without a word when he’d finished, and she hadn’t seen him since. She’d sat there until she couldn’t. Then she lied in her bed for hours, trying to think what Jane would want her to do, what Thor would do.

The troubling thing was, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that those were probably very different things. Jane would put up a fight. No matter how dangerous, she’d somehow find a way to escape. 

And Thor? She knew he loved the man who’d only hours ago told her he’d have gladly faked his death again to impersonate Odin, that Loki had no remorse. And still, she knew Thor would help him, because that’s who Thor was. 

And who was Darcy? Was she going to resist? Or was she going to trust him, despite her better judgement?

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he opened the fridge beside her. “Give a warning next time?”

“It is hardly my fault if you fail to be aware of your surroundings.” Apparently lingonberry jam (past it’s due date) and almond milk (she’d thawed it out from the freezer yesterday) did not impress. “Where did you acquire food last time you were here?”

The almond milk was fine with Darcy for her stale coffee. But she admitted to herself that the stale frosted flakes left something to be desired.  
“Down the hill and on the road to the town.”  
She pulled out a chair at the table and made to sit down, freezing when she realized she no longer had a towel on. In it’s place was a pair of warm black leggings, a loose cashmere top, and a grey vest. Upon further inspection, her hair was dry and had a warm hat, her feet in warm socks and boots. 

She almost dropped her coffee. 

Looking at who she knew was the only magician pervy enough to pull a stunt like that (never mind the only other person around) she found him fitting gloves onto his fingers, the rest of him dressed like he was ready to build a snowman. 

“Uh....going out?” She says, defiantly sitting in her chair.

He’s thoroughly unimpressed. “Yes; as are you.”

“Really?” She crosses her legs, taking a big gulp of coffee. 

“Yes,” He seems satisfied with his ‘disguise’ and opens the door expectantly. “Because you want a say in what sort of breakfast and coffee I’ll buy.”

He’s right, of course. She’d never let an alien pick her coffee. He’d probably get light roast. He could probably read her mind and know she hated any cereal that was a type of “bran” (what even was bran?) and buy it to piss her off.

And that was how she found herself taking a stroll with Loki through the snow.

+

Loki could tell she was nervous by the way she seemed to shrink next to him while they walked. He’d never noticed how petite she was, but here, as they walked beside one another, her cheeks were rosy and her legs clumsy in the snow as she tries to keep up with him.

“I promise not to harm you, Darcy Lewis.” 

She stalls her pace for only a moment. “Okayyyyy.”

“I will protect you,” He says it to himself as much as to her.

She doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t slow down. If anything, her focus on the road ahead of them could melt the snowflakes before they had a chance to meet the ground. She is taller again, he smiles to himself. Whether it is her indignance at the thought of needing to be protected or the mere notion that he of all people could protect her, it has lit a fire under her. 

How she enchants him. Her full lips pursed till they’re nearly white from the cold, her expression empty save for the motivation in her eyes. Her energy fuels him, and he is smirking all the way to the convenience store. 

+

Darcy drops an armful of groceries on the counter, careful not to fall into the display of gum and sweets and cigarettes that are canted towards her. She never understood the reasoning behind this design. 

Loki’s height conquers not only the awkward clerk’s counter, but reaches over her to pay, his body pressing against her and cupping a gentle hand under her elbow. She’s about to shake free of him when he says:

“What was the name of that cafe you were telling me about, sweetheart?”

Her jaw drops. Really? THIS is his grand plan to stay hidden in plain sight? Apparently the man had seen “The Proposal” one too many times, or at least not all the way through. 

“Haven’t the foggiest, Hansel.” She shoots back, mocking his foppish accent. 

He squeezes her arm at that, and says. “She wouldn’t shut up about it when she came back home. Can’t remember unless she puts it in her phone,” He squeezes her to his side while pocketing the change. “Such a tragedy when it fell down the loo.”

“I’ll kill you,” She hisses.

“Must be Sluy’s down the road.” The cashier pushes their bags towards them, obviously not one for conversation. 

As soon as they’re free of the store, Darcy power walks away from him, getting to the cafe a good five minutes ahead of him. She places her order and stews while waiting for her coffee, ignoring his cocky saunter over to her. 

“Not one for public affection?” 

She matches his smug expression with poison. “Just not from guys who are obviously compensating for something.”

Unfazed, Loki grabs their food and says “And I understand now why you didn’t fall for Thor.”   
Darcy enjoys her breakfast, though she spends most of it defending Thor to a man who has heard all the same defenses for centuries. Loki pays with some sort of magical currency and Darcy has no problem traipsing ahead of him again. It’s a long walk home and the “light” hours are limited. She doesn’t want to be trapped in the cold with him in the dark. 

At one point in time Darcy wouldn’t have been too nervous about the whole situation. She was generally pretty fearless, or at least very stupid. But somehow, he knew things. He’d shared things. Nothing she had previously understood about him fit in the right boxes anymore. 

When Loki’s stride meets hers, neither says anything. She knows why she’s lost in thought, she knows Loki plans to find a way to escape Thanos and the Avengers with or without her. And yet, the silence between them is comfortable. The twilight nearly blurring to dark by the time they reach the cabin.

She wonders how long they’ll be stuck here. 

+

“Lunch,” A long arm that can only belong to Loki stretches across the back of the couch and places a bowl of macaroni in front of her.

Darcy grunts in response thinking--

“And no, I didn’t drug it.”

She grabs it because she’s hungry and watches him light a fire. By hand. Thor was pure muscle. She’d met men who she could categorize by the way they dressed, but in general most guys her age were somewhat tall and somewhat lean and awkward. The definition of his back as he crouched by the fireplace, focus intent tells of his centuries-long experience alone. 

“Can’t you just like, fire-bend it, or something?” She finds herself saying.

She thinks he must be ignoring her but he finally responds with, “Am I building it inadequately, Lady Darcy?”

She rolls her eyes, “I just thought you’d be able to have stoked it enough, what with the silver tongue and everything.”

He laughs and looks over his shoulder, the feline expression taking over. “I earned that title from very...specific practices.”

“Gross,” Darcy deliberately tosses another eyeroll.

“Building fires this way is not one of them.” Though, he punctuates this with the fire taking on a healthy glow. 

Darcy finishes her pasta and kicks her heels up, wrapping the blanket around her for warmth till she feels that only her face is visible. “If I had some sort of god-like super power they’d probably call me ‘the incredible B student” or something like that. Maybe “fantastic dice roller”. I’m sure SHIELD would come up with something better, but really. It doesn’t seem fair that you get a nickname for something as mundane as talking smooth. If we’re going by that standard of excellence, then I’d end up being like... Darcy: rapier-wit-tooth. I dunno. Jane’s subtitle would definitely be “Hot Mess.””

She realizes this is more than she’s probably ever said to him, and nearly bites her lips when she closes her mouth. He’s staring at her with a happy grin, like Thor when he had Diner food for the first time. 

She shrugs and shuffles to the kitchen to drop off her dish. She wishes there was more to do than read or shower. That she had a place to hide from him. She blames her personality for the random tangents she goes on in front of people-- strangers, even. And apparently super villains.

+

She entertains him. She pulls him through her thought process and he could listen to her small rants at any time. He wishes she hadn’t remembered herself and stopped. If he still bore Odin’s throne, he’d be able to listen to her thoughts, her “prayers”. What he wouldn’t give to spend the day listening to her quirky way of talking, or following her like a puppy while she tottered around cocooned in a blanket. 

He sighs. It’s been a long time, a very long time, since he felt this way. He’d have to be more careful. He had to get her to trust him if either of them were going to get out of this situation alive.

Resolved, Loki decides to start anew with her tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get to you all, dear readers. But now I am done with school and should have a faster, more regulated posting schedule.   
> Don't ever stop telling me your reactions and ideas! I love them!   
> Which reminds me, thank you ALL who have commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed to this story! I'm so excited to be back in the fic world as a writer, and I love this pairing even though I haven't written for them before.
> 
> Happy holidays! Drink responsibly and avoid annoying family members at all costs! ;)


	6. Breath

Darcy knows by her tallies on the headboard that it’s only been a week and a half, but it feels longer. Each long day turned into long nights. She and Loki would start out trying to avoid each other, but somehow always ended up meeting late at night, looking out at the snow and frozen lake.

“In the summer, it can be warm enough to swim in.” Darcy finds herself saying.

“There is one on Asgard much like it.”

Darcy hums her response to mask that she has no idea of what to say. The fact that they’ve met like this for the last few days, and that they’ve become comfortable with it, unsettles her. 

“Nightmares?”

She’d think she imagined it, but he’s turned towards her slightly. The moonlight creates a defined stream of light between them. She looks at it and knows she’s going to answer.

“Not exactly. You?”

He shrugs, sighing. “I’ve come to expect them.”

Darcy wonders what his nightmares could be like. He’d seen more gory sights than she’d ever seen, fallen through space, and was traumatized by his own heritage. “I’m sorry.”

She sees him blink and is fairly certain she’s surprised him as much as herself. 

“I could,” He says after a long moment of stillness. “Spare some magic that would allow you sleep without dreams.”

“That’s okay, thanks though.” Darcy stares harder at the moonlight landscape, blaming it for her sudden lunacy and uncharacteristic burst of politeness. She chances a look back at him, to see if he’s gloating. 

His eyes already rest on her, his face unguarded until they make eye contact. 

As one they murmur goodnight and shuffle for their rooms.

+

The next morning he finds her at the sticky table, playing cards by herself. He can tell by looking at her that she’s worn thin from her sleepless nights. If only they weren’t so trapped.

Taking a chance, he sits beside her.   
“Teach me?”

Thoughtlessly, she hands him the cards, and explains the game to him. “I’m not making it really clear, but you’ll catch on.”

It only takes a few rounds for her to realize she’d underestimated him.

“Do you know other games, Lady Darcy?”

Her bottom lip pops out of her teeth. “If you’re insinuating that I’m not good enough at this to beat you, you’re wrong, alien boy.”

Loki doesn’t feel let himself bristle at her jab. This is the girl he’d witnessed and was ensnared by. Her temper in check until suddenly, it wasn’t. But no thunder, no prisons, no rejection came with her defenses. 

She had enough confidence in herself to be mischievous.

His attraction to her didn’t stop him from beating her, however. Neither did he have a problem trailing at her heels while she had announced she was going to “walk it off” around the lake.

\+   
A year earlier....

Darcy’s curses by Odin’s beard (both facial and pubic) thankfully tempted his consciousness away from watching Thor dance with Jane at the Jul celebration. She was storming away from an argument (with her mother probably. About her future plans, definitely.) and threw herself on the bed by the time Loki had finally finished his spell. He watched with amusement while she fisted all she could reach of her bed dressings, and created a pile on top of her that muffled her screams. 

It was late, and he had nothing better to do than watch Thor fawn over his mortal or to watch Darcy fall asleep.

Not worried of drawing Heimdall’s attention, he dimmed the lights in her room, made her mattress cozier, and helped her to dream. In dreams, he could reach her-- if just barely. 

As though blossoming, her mind received him. He kissed the corner of her mouth then. 

It wasn’t real. He didn’t even feel it. But the dream of kissing her neck and letting his hands clasp her waist entranced him. Her curves begged to be cupped, caressed, massaged. He wished he could do more than imagine her flesh prickling as he bit beneath her ear. 

It wasn’t real, only a dream for her. A fantasy to him. 

+

The present....

Darcy couldn’t fall asleep again. Things had been better since she and Loki had started finding more ways to pass time-- cooking meals for each other together, walking through the forest, playing card games. 

But finding more ways to waste her time didn’t evaporate the anxiety that visited each night. She was tired. She wanted nothing more than to sleep without interuption.

Loki was in his usual spot, though she hadn’t any need to visit him for several days. 

“What did you dream about?” Darcy asked, wrapping herself in a blanket.

He turned to glare at her-- she assumed. It was still pretty dark. 

“I could ask the same of you.”

Darcy shrugged. “Just one of my run of the mill dreams. Aliens destroying my hometown. Your turn.”

Loki sits on the other sofa. “Thanos.”

Darcy nods, threading through the fringe of her afghan. “What are you gonna do about that, anyway?”

Loki shrugs. “Wait for Thor.”

She sits up so fast her bones crack. “Wait, then why don’t you just like... apparate us there or something?”

Loki explains, again, he can’t risk doing magic without alerting Thanos to their presence. Darcy inadvertently remembers his offer to magic her to sleep without dreams. She sits with the knowledge that he cares for her well being uncomfortably through the end of his rant.

“Darcy,” He adds as an afterthought. “You have to trust me if you want to live.”

It’s too ridiculous. “Hey, I don’t know how they do things on Asgard, buddy, but here on Earth women aren’t.... like... Chattel, or something! I don’t HAVE to do anything you tell me to--”

Loki broadcasts his lack of taking her seriously, and it riles her up more. Standing, Darcy wedges herself between the coffee table and his knees, blocking his access to the door. 

“Shuttup, Loki. Just shut up!”

He holds his hands up defensively, which earns him a slap that ruffles the inky mane around his ears. 

“You think you can rule Asgard, and rule the world-- well guess what? You can’t rule me! And I’m going crazy here, so you better start keeping me informed or I WILL cut you. I will CUT you, Loki Odinson!”

“Laufeyson.”

“Shut up!” She hits him again. “I’m not your little stray mut that you get to decide to leave behind for the zombies when the apocalypse comes. From now on, I get a say in shit! Because it’s my life too, and I am capable of making my own decisions. You’re not some knight protecting a damsel in distress-- you’re-- you’re--”

Loki towers above her, forcing her to nudge the coffee table back a few inches or fall on it. “Go on, Darcy.”

“You’re the bad guy.” She says it. In spite of the fact the he looks like he’ll slap her, she says it. She doesn’t care, and she shoves one hand in his chest before turning away.

There’s a moment of limbs tripping and tangling, and Loki falls back into the couch when she pushes him. Darcy twists into the legs collapsing beneath him and she’s sprawled on his chest like in some stupid vaudeville film. The both struggle to separate. Loki trying to disentangle his legs from both the coffee table and Darcy; Darcy trying to find something solid to push herself up. When she finally pushes herself up, she can smell him and feel the heat of his breath. She brushes his lips with hers for the briefest moment before trying to lean back further-- only to collapse face first in his chest again.

His own efforts to separate from her pause, and she can’t deny that she’d really kissed him.  
And dammit, how does he smell so good?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blerg. Here's another chapter! Took me some time because I'm trying to think of some more fluffy bits. I don't want it to ALL be plot. After all, I assume most of you came for the rating and stayed for our OTP ;)
> 
> ANYWHO. You're all wonderful and I love hearing from you <3


	7. Burst

Darcy looks at the digital alarm clock and finally decides to acknowledge the growling in her stomach. She opens her door quietly, scanning the loft as though she’s Hawkeye, and steps quietly down the stairs.

Where Loki is eating a sandwich at the dining room table. She trips and nearly falls down the stairs.

Okay, so not very much like Hawkeye. 

“Play it cool Darce,” She coaches herself. “Not like last night. Be cool.” 

She cringes, remembering how she had frozen. She’d just lied there smelling him for who knows how long. She clanks her dishes around to distract herself from the Norse god at the table. In the end, he’d slid them up till she was sitting on his knees. She’d hoped he’d do something else to break the awkwardness. But it was her turn, and she decided to dismount and dash.

“Interesting choice.” 

She jumped. “Fuck! You’ve got to stop doing that, it isn’t normal.”

Side stepping her, Loki picked up her bowl. “Neither, I’d wager, is this.”

Pickles. Cheese. Mustard. Not a standard snack by anyone’s terms but her own. She yanked her bowl from him and planted herself at the table, refusing to make eye contact.

“Are we going to have to start all over now?” Loki’s question was spoken loftily. He sat across from her, clasping his hands on the table as though he was negotiating with Fury and not some random intern.

He was pissed.

She’d been wondering how much of her sass it would take till it broke him. Probably her mortal lips had been offensive or something. She had to admit she’d taken to losing her temper because she didn’t have her taser. If she’d had that, she’d probably have felt more secure around Loki.

Because he was a bad guy.

Definitely not because she found him wickedly hot.

She decides it would be best to ignore him.

+

It turned out that Loki didn’t like being ignored. He’d made lots of noise in the study the rest of the afternoon, and when he finally exited it he looked as though he was ready to set things on fire. He’d squared his shoulders and made a point of moving the coffee table before sitting on it in front of her. 

He was going to play dirty. Fine. She had a stubborn streak the size of the great wall of China. It rivaled Jane’s when triggered. With an airy sigh, she licked the tip of her finger and turned the page in “Great Expectations”. It was Dickens for Odin’s fucking sake. She could win this.

It wasn’t easy though. He’d caught on instantly, it seemed. Loki crossed his ankles and settled them on the couch so that they just lightly brush her elbow. 

Darcy returned the gesture. 

Twenty minutes later, he unfastened the few leather pieces he still wore and began doing sit ups with such vigour that the couch shifted every time he moved. If that wasn’t distracting enough, the air between them started to slowly smell like his musk. 

She swallowed. She was only three pages from where she was when he’d first sat down. She slammed the book shut, causing him to pause. Darcy piled her hair on top of her head in an untidy bun and took off her cardigan. Making herself more comfortable she forced herself to continue reading while Loki resumed his obnoxious work out. 

He wasn’t a weightlifter, and didn’t have bulging muscles. But his mild exertion compared to his rapid routine was mind boggling. He was fast and precise. His lean figure showcased a type of strength that had her biting her lip and re-reading the same page over and over again.

Enough was enough. The room was getting uncomfortably warm between his ridiculous show and the fire anyway.

+

He settled into her spot on the couch (and taking up the rest of it) by the time she came back downstairs. She picked up her book and crossed to the other sofa without complaint. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t confused. In all his years, he’d never yet met anyone to give up their claim on their spot so readily.

Looking at her directly, Loki saw.

She’d changed clothes. A soft bralette cocooned her breasts (something she’d bought downtown) and gym shorts abandoned by Jane (Darcy was lucky enough to find a mildewy bunch of Dr. Foster’s forgotten laundry in the wash). The clothes left by Jane, Darcy had said, were too small for her because “she was more of an hourglass”. And though he had to agree with her, he couldn’t complain. The shorts showed more of Darcy’s thighs than he’d seen since he was on Asgard. Her milky skin whittled smoothly from her hips to her small feet. He swallowed. 

She was only feet from him. He could easily part her legs (as if sculpted in the Hellenistic age) and coax her out of those tiny shorts (watching her bite her full lips). It would be easy to make her orgasm for him, he knew (over, and over). He’d memorized the ways she touched herself (intoxicating woman) and knew he’d prove his title of Silver Tongue to her beyond any memory of her mockery.

Instead--Loki closes his eyes and breathes. 

Instead, he’ll show her how much of a monster he can be.

+

Darcy feels smug and satisfied as she feels him watch her. She’d hesitated for a moment while changing, remembering the things he’d said to her in SHIELD. The things Thor and Jane had said to her after the fact. How Jane had to explain for blushing Thor that Loki, it could only be assumed as the worst case scenario, was a bit of a voyeur. She pushes through the hesitation. She ignores the excitement she feels and focuses on her high of the competition.

He’s quiet for so long that she looks up to check if he’s left. Of course, he hasn’t. His skin is blue. It’s not like he described to her, though. How she imagined someone of Alien descent with blue skin might look. He’s the color of the ocean. It’s a blue both startling and somehow natural. She can make out markings of a crown on his forehead. His eyes glow bloodily, daring her to run. 

She sets down her book. And she sees the bearing of his Jotun form for what it is: a challenge. He cocks his head to one side, resting it on his cool hand. The lump between his legs and beneath his tunic can only be one thing, despite the size. Darcy averts her eyes, refusing to acknowledge his obscenity no matter how much she wants to play out the banter he’s baiting her for. No matter how much she wants to see for herself if....

She can’t. There’s something else weighing too heavily on her. The game, no matter how amusing--erotic--tempting must be put on hold.

“Wait... You seriously committed genocide.... because you look like this?”

The red of his eyes turns a deep burgundy, like wine. Immediately he’s back in his Asgardian form. Even without red eyes, he frightens her more this way.

“Loki, you’re not....You’re beautiful! You’re not some sort of demon spawn.” It dawns on her. “Oh my god, Asgard is fucking racist.”

Loki’s fist shakes and she watches him beat the arm of the couch until he is still. “You don’t have any sense to understand.”

Darcy barks a laugh she immediately regrets from the clenching of his muscles. “I’m not an idiot Loki. I just mean that.... my god you must really have some deep rooted self hatred going on... God. Loki, Loki you’re not.... You...” She trails off, feeling ill and unsettled. He won’t look at her.

“Don’t presume to understand me Darcy Lewis, how many ways must I threaten you?” His anger fills her ears, but she watches him stiffly make to leave the room.

Darcy thinks, later that night, that this moment is when she lost her mind. She jumps up from the couch and stops him. He doesn’t challenge her, but he takes his time acknowledging her. Uncomfortable, she drops the hands pressing into his rib cage. She sees photographs of New York in her head with the look he finally gives her. Darcy sees how it takes the Hulk or Thor’s hammer to stop this God of Lies. 

She doesn’t remember, as he looks down at her, what her truth is anymore. She thinks of all the excuses and fears that surround her attraction towards him. She sees his need to rule and she feels an impulse to kneel. He has power she can’t comprehend. He could break her easily. 

She feels every wayward desire she’s every repressed surface under his gaze. 

“Don’t tempt me, Darcy.” Loki’s voice is angry at her, at himself.

So she pulls him to her and kisses him. 

Every bit of tension in him dissolves, and she feels one arm wrap around her waist pulling her nearer. His tongue flicks her lower lip. It isn’t hungry or frightened or like any of the guys she’s dated before. He tastes her. She lets herself melt into his arms because she likes the way he’s making her feel. A cool hand on her neck guides her with his thumb on her jaw. She lets him explore her mouth while she focuses on the feel of his kiss. He knows how to kiss her. She doesn’t think of all the experience he must’ve had but gives in to the intoxication of how much he wants her. 

As he moves her, glides them, guides them, she blossoms into his embrace. She wants him, she suddenly knows the reason she has been so on edge, so uncharacteristically frightened of him and her attraction to him. It is because he fits so well between her thighs, because his kisses on her neck have her arching into him for more. She resisted it because she’ll never want to stop. 

She can’t stop. She begs him not to. So he doesn’t.

Loki joins to her, pressing himself slowly inside. Once they have connected there is a hunger sated and stirred in both of them.  
“Fuck, oh, god, Loki!” She keens as he suckles first her left tit, and then her right.

He hums as he starts to slide his hips back and forth, back and forth. Slowly. Tortuously. She matches his pace and the sound of their sex has him groaning her name into her neck. 

Darcy, Darcy, Darcy.

He prays it, and she worships him.

“Loki--” She gasps, needing, resisting. “I’m, I want--”

He pants into her hair, driving faster. “You feel so good... Darcy...”

She feels her orgasm break around him, shattering and crashing down over both of them in waves til he joins her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. I'm riding the smut train to hell. Who's gonna join me?
> 
> Seriously though, all the feedback, kudos, follows, bookmarks, etc. I couldn't write without any of it! You're all wonderful, and thank you for taking the time to read this fic :)


	8. Signs

Jane Foster runs right into Thor’s arms, and despite the distress he knows his friends are in, he is pleased to see her. 

“Thor,” Jane hurriedly brushes her hair out of her eyes, righting herself after their embrace. (He smiles and isn’t offended). “Thor, they think he took Darcy with them...”

Heimdall and Thor exchange the same look, Jane’s organized thoughts continuing on. “Slow down, Jane,” he gently squeezes her arm. “Loki, do my friends have any idea where he is?” 

Jane’s breath stutters. He can feel her anxiety as though it's cursed him too, and it bothers him. She is often more brave than he considers himself. Things must be far worse on Midgard than he and Heimdall had initially seen. 

“No, they...” Jane visibly pushes aside her frustration. “Stark and a couple Agents are looking for them in Europe. But I’m certain we’d know by now if he was trying to take over England, or--”

“Loki is in the Old Land of Midgard, my King.” Heimdall interrupts, his focus unwavering. “He’s hidden himself well, but is losing much energy to evade me.”

Jane looks impressed and gestures wildly. “See, I TOLD them to try and get your attention sooner!”

Thor knows his friends on Midgard can find Loki again, with his help. Finding him again is no concern. What concerns him is Darcy. It concerns him how quickly Heimdall was able to find him despite the safeguards against it. Many times he’s replayed his last conversation with his brother. There is a presence. All whom he’d entrusted his fears too felt the evil as well. Whatever was after his brother would find Darcy as well. Darcy is an entertaining friend, and he is not unaware of her beauty. But what has drawn Loki to her troubles him all the more. 

“Heimdall,” Thor finally says. “Can you see how Lady Darcy fares?”

He feels Jane’s tight grip on his hand while they wait for Heimdall’s response. “If he’s hurt her Thor, I swear...”

He brushes his thumb over her knuckles that have been scabbed over and burnt many times by reckless experimentation. 

“I cannot see her.” Heimdall finally relinquishes with a frustrated sigh. “But I feel she is safe.”

“With Loki?” Thor pushes.

The guard hesitates. “Yes.”

Jane curses under her breath. 

+

She wakes up feeling like she slept on the floor. 

Upon further investigation Darcy realizes she has, in fact, slept on the floor. She’s also naked beneath the afghan she currently wears. She sits up slowly, testing out her aches and remembering last night with growing uncertainty. 

There’s no question that it happened. There’s a half-nude god a foot to her left to prove it. Of all the disorienting mornings she’s had, she decides this makes the top of the list. The growing knot of discomfort in her stomach isn’t from regret. And that’s what unsettles her. 

“You’ve really fucked up, Darcy.” She mentally scolds herself. “You’ve just had mind blowing sex with SHIELD's undesirable no. 1”

“I hope that wicked smirk is my doing,” Says the undesirable himself.

She hadn’t even known she was making a face. The knot tangles further as she allows herself the mischief. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.” All six feet of him rolls to face her. 

The view of his iliac furrow and smooth skin cause her mind to go blank. “Oh.” 

Loki’s smile lifts slowly, then settles into his normal facade. 

“Say something, dammit!” She screams at herself. “So...” She begins blindly. “Was it good for you?” If she could drag herself into a hole she would.

He barks out laughter, which surprises her. His whole face changes into an expression that reminds her of Peter Pan--but like, the Loki God of Sex version. “Was it for you?”

“Hey, no fair!” She throws a cushion at him. “I asked first. Aren’t you Asgardians not supposed to know all these Earthling colloquialisms anyway?”

He raises his brows and leans closer to her. “In these matters, all realms speak the same language.”

Darcy swallows. “Right. The booty don’t need explainin’, as they say.” 

Loki’s judgmental confusion raises her spirits. “Balance returns to the force”, she congratulates herself. She stretches her limbs, groaning at the knots in her shoulders. “Next time we are NOT doing this on the floor.”

The air is sucked out of the room with such force, Darcy wonders if Loki used magic. 

“Next time,” Loki says deliberately. “I will ensure your comfort.”

She hopes he’ll leave it there, and starts to wrap the blanket around her...

“You were so eager, I didn’t think it safe to derail you from your desires.” His smart ass face is back.

Darcy protests that he didn’t complain about it, but finds herself cut off mid deflection by Loki’s mouth. His arms plant to either side of her like pillars, forcing her to put her arms around his neck while he eases her into the ground. His tongue caresses hers with insistence, and their kiss tastes like the cool morning air around them. The heat of his chest has her heart thumping noisily. Her whole body answers unbidden to him. He isn’t forceful. She threads her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, scraping lightly. His moan leads to the separation of their lips. 

“Would you like to relocate to somewhere more comfortable?” His voice is so rugged in his request that her pelvic muscles jerk inside her before she can process what he’s said.

+

Her eyes are tinted with lust, her perfect lips already swollen. He doesn’t let himself process whether or not it will work out for the best later on. He’s waited, watched, listened for so long. Before her it had been decades (or was it centuries?) before he’d felt a woman on his cock. Even if he heeded the small pit of anxiety in his stomach, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from lifting her into his arms as though they were lovers partaking in lazy rituals. 

He turns on the warm water in the shower, tugging her in after him. The dreamy look on her face has him gently waltzing her back to the wall, reverently guiding her scalp into the stream of water. Her lips part in a sigh that makes his heart drop. Pushing through the warm haze, he kisses her throat. He reads her most sensitive spots with an open mouth, wanting to mark her. But not yet. Not yet. 

She’s real, She’s here and moaning his name. 

When he finally kneels before her, she snaps to attention.

“Hey, you, um, you don’t have to--” She breaks the mood with the voice she uses when she makes jokes to mask her discomfort.   
“I want to. This is my--”

“Right, yeah, I’m sure, y’know...” She squirms. “Silver Tongue isn’t exactly the most subtle--”

“Darcy,” He groans.

“It’s just like, its been awhile since my last Brazilian, and like--”

“Darcy.”

“You know, I don’t mind GIVING oral, I enjoy it, actually, and I know sometimes--”

“Darcy, please.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you HAVE this obligation-- Oh fuck...”

He grins as she closes her eyes and leans against the wall, as though the light skimming of his finger over her clit has knocked her feet out from under her. He can’t help the smug expression he makes as he steadies her with his other hand. When he finally puts a finger inside her, she’s already singing his praises.

She doesn’t complain when he guides her knee to drape over his shoulder. Her heel quivers and tenses against his spine while he tastes her. She’s worshiping him. With one long lick up her cunt she’s pulling on his hair. When he angles deeper, sucks, and tastes her she begs him for mercy. When he flicks against her cunt and she screams his name he feels himself cum against her ass and thighs. 

He doesn’t stop to be surprised by this uncharacteristic turn of events, but drives her to orgasm fiercely against his mouth and the fingers he inserts immediately, wracking out another, two, three, four more.

To hear her heaving breaths praise him is worth Asgard’s throne, he admits before waking up from the dream. 

+

“Thor,” A middle aged warrior calls him from conference with Jane and the warriors three. “I have urgent news.”

Sif, who brings him in, looks ill. He stands as she seats herself near Hogun. “He sought me out last night.... we came as soon as we could...” 

“Bragi?” Thor gives distance between his friends to greet the man.  
“Who’s that?” Jane whispers, feeling foolish. 

“Idunn’s husband. He hasn’t been seen in Asgardian courts in thousands of years.” Sif replies tersely.

Fandral waves her off, trying to eavesdrop. Volstagg divides his attention momentarily, giving Jane a look of warmth. She thanks god for the three warriors. Sif has never seemed fond of her.

“And what does Idunn make of your dream?” Thor is asking in grave tone.

Bragi takes his time to respond, and when he finally does Jane strains to hear.

“She believes it could begin the end.”

Fandral chokes, and even Sif seems to stop breathing. “He didn’t tell me that, he only mentioned Nari....”

“And what of the mortal?” Jane sees a version of Thor she’s only ever seen on Asgard. He shoulders the responsibility of his father with unease. 

Bragi shakes his head. “If it is as I have seen, he will seek Idunn.”

“Sygn?” Hogun breathes. Jane doesn’t know if she’s ever heard him speak.

“If Nari is coming, she has too as well.” Sif rolls her eyes.

Thor thanks the warrior for his message of prophecy and says his goodbyes to Sif. The moment he sits down Fandral peppers him with questions. Volstagg reminds them all of signs and something called “Ragnarok” and to give the King some space to breathe. Thor discusses things with the brevity Sif had exhibited and finally dismisses his friends in favor of taking Jane’s hand.

“I need to explain some things to you before I reunite with the Avengers,” He says tiredly. “And I must ask you some questions about our friend Darcy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....a little different from earlier, huh? If I over explained or was too transparent to make it interesting, I apologize. I'm defs mixing in the mythology of my heritage with MCU here, but don't worry. This will be as heavy handed as we get with things if you feel like you've read this story-line a million times. I planned it this way from the beginning, but the plot is not as trope-y and angst-y as I'm worried it may have come across in this chap.....
> 
> blerg. why is it I feel so much LESS self-conscious about writing smut??? lol XD 
> 
> ALSO. I love it when you guys respond in any way to the new chapters. I wish I could give you all hugs <3 <3


	9. Holy

She hasn’t slept so well in so long. If not for her tally, Darcy knows that she could easily forget about a life beyond the cabin. The last 24 hours had seen more action than she had in... god, it was too depressing to do the math. 

Still. She could get used to sex with Loki. She burrows under her blankets at the visions of SHIELD shunning them; Jane barfing in the nearest receptacle and Thor clapping his hands while singing some Asgardian hymn about love. Though a master of hyperbole, she knew the reality was much darker than she was ready to handle. Worst case scenario, she’d claim stockholm syndrome for the rest of her life.

That was probably fine. 

It begged the question, though. Was God of Lies and Oral Sex really interested? Or just taking advantage of her? Her stomach churns and she wriggles to a colder, less suffocating part of the bed.

The scent of Coffee breaks through her shroud of thoughts and has her leaping out of bed in escape. Neither of them acknowledge the hesitation when he looks up from the bottom of the stairs, and she looks down from the top step. The house is cold, and he has two mugs of coffee.

+

“So.” Darcy pours herself another cup of the acidic drink. “We need to address something.”

He braces himself from another one of her infuriatingly acute and nagging inquisition of “the plan”. He doesn’t have the stamina to explain to her the subtle wisdom of “waiting for Thor” while confessing a regatta of fears he’s barely admitted to himself. 

He settles for lifting his eyebrows.

“I’m serious. Being a female I have had a small amount of experience with society's prejudices. Now, I’m not saying I understand marginalization, but I DO know prejudice when I see it.... And I think Asgard is racist.” She ceases her speech by finally turning to face him again. He grasps her meaning when her gaze steadies and latches on to part of himself that few people have seen.

He’d been a lustful fool to show his Jotun form to her, and this was the price to pay. 

“No.”

Darcy huffs. “Loki,” She whines. “Just do this one thing for me, kay? Just this one thing. I won’t ever ask for anything ever again. I’ll do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”

He’s almost worried he’ll plow her over on his way to the study, but not enough to let her stop him.  
She kicks the door a few times, and because he refuses to use magic for this he leans all of his weight into blocking her entrance. No matter how many times she kicks.

“Fine!” She grunts, and he hears her slide to the floor. He won’t risk removing himself from the door though. “I don’t have to see it. Just... I want you to change. Please Loki, just for like five minutes.”

She’ll never know whether he does or doesn’t. After a few moments of stillness, he watches the blue color drench his fingers and palm, disappearing up his sleeve. The air chills slightly, and he sighs in the relief of it. 

“I only want you to see yourself, really see yourself.” Darcy’s voice comes again. “There’s nothing monstrous about you.” 

He disagrees with her, and lets his Jotun form wash over his body. He shudders in the feeling of freedom from his Asgardian skin. It’s more familiar there, he knows how to control that body. But there’s something in this shape that makes him feel bare, even though he’s fully clothed.

“You’re the textbook definition of internalized racism, Loki. I don’t really know anything about Jotunheim. But it’s just as much of who you are as Asgard is. You can’t cut it out of you. It’s obvious you want to. And you can try and ignore me, and ignore it. But you can’t.” Darcy’s voice pauses. “You’re still human. Err, well. Not human, but you know what I mean.”

+

She’s trying to decide whether or not it’s time to give up when the door opens. She has this out of body experience remembering being very small and going through the stages of anticipation and fear with Belle on a worn VHS tape in her dad’s house. The moment when she asks the Beast to step into the light. 

She waits with anticipation now, unable to see him in the shadow of the study. But there’s no fear when his eyes meet hers. She’s captivated by the red, it’s a color she knows well. It's a color that means christmas, or her period, or hearts and love, or Iron Man. It’s a color she sees every day and inspires hunger and reminds her of strength and warmth. 

The chill emanating from his blue skin doesn’t deter her from grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to the full length mirror on the bathroom door. They stand there, studying him quietly. His fists clench, and unclench. He can’t look himself in the eyes. 

She doesn’t know what it is about Loki that unlocks certain parts of her will and sets free all sorts of actions she’d previously chocked up to irrational impulse. But there she is, in front of a Frost Giant, taking off his pants. 

He covers her hand in his, as if to stop her, but with her other hand she rubs the length of him. His expression changes completely, and she has to bite the inside of her mouth at the bob in his throat. 

“Well, that’s interesting.” She chuckles, surprised at the gravel in her tone.

His toned legs remind her of ice formations she once knew the names of. She tries to remember while running her hands up the back of his calves until she meets his cock. She suddenly feels as though they're both wearing too much clothing and wonders if she’s somehow been punk’d into a porno. Luckily, he’s followed her example by taking off her shirt and they both still at the thousands of ridges along his skin. 

She wants to tell him he looks like an Aboriginal dot painting, but doubts he would know or appreciate the reference as much as she does. He’s Starry Night Over the Rhone, he’s a constellation. He’s a prince from another world. She reaches out to him, barely touching, and he groans her name.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea--” he starts to say, but there’s nothing he can say to stop her now.

Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t stop.

She takes his head in her mouth, twirling and sucking, lapping at what she can. She’s never been known for being good at this, but she enjoys the feeling of having him in her mouth, on her tongue. At her mercy. He gently threads his fingers near her scalp. The aura of cool has her flesh pebbling and she’s glad that extra saliva comes in handy. She’s almost beaten down her gag recess when he calls her name again, urgently.

She bobs up, wiping her mouth to hide her smirk at the winded expression on his face. “Yes?”

“I- I can’t, Darcy.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m just starting to have fun, though...” She pumps his cock for good measure. He groans again, reaching out to the wall for balance.

“No, Darcy.” His eyes snap open, holding her still. “I n-need to be in you. Now. Please.”

Her mouth drops open at the weakness in him. He’s 6 feet of powerful snow man and about to fall on top of her. The minute she gets to her feet, his cold fingers fiddle with her zipper and buttons, wrapping an arm around her while they shimmy her out. It’s awkward and clumsy, nothing like their first two seductions. She squeaks when he rubs her breasts, rutting against her stomach like a teenager. His cold cock and her warm saliva highlight all his firm angles. He melts against every curve of hers, cradling her on their slow path back to the study.   
She’s amazed they’ve made it far enough for him to suddenly stop kissing her. They both gasp for air and she’s almost grateful for it until she hears his growl in the back of his throat, signalling to her that it has been anything but a break. She shivers in sinful pleasure when he roughly handles her on to the table. He’s leaning over, over, over her and then nibbling his way from her ear to her collar bone. She’s making noises she didn’t even know were in her register, and vaguely she thinks they could be animals doing what animals have always done.

“Darcy, I don’t know if...” He grunts as he pulls out again.

The sound of her wetness emphasizes the pleasant cold feeling of him filling her. She arches her back and he fingers her nipple. Her response is anything but coherent.

“I can’t....I don’t want to hurt you...” He makes out between strained pants and thrusts.

She chuckles darkly, and it turns into a moan when his angle shifts, hitting her just a little deeper, filling her a little more. “You won’t--” She whines and keens as he sucks her other breast into his mouth. “I like it.”

It’s all chaos and no order. A race they both must win. 

She swears she feels him swell inside her as he pins her hips to the table. He pushes into her with noises she agrees with. Suddenly she’s coming, and it shakes her. She’s addicted to it, begging him for more. She’ll never be sober again, a full fledged addict to Jotun sex if she has her way. And oh, once more. Again. And he’s just after her, stuttering to a stop as warm liquid mixes with hers, soaking their skin and the table. The contrast in temperature has her shudder out her final quakes of pleasure before he pulls out, falling to his knees.

Their heavy breathing eventually becomes shallow, and she peels herself to a sitting position. Loki’s leaning against her left leg, his temple resting at her knee. 

“Wow.” She says, nudging him.

He nods in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, patient readers <3
> 
> Thank you all for your support, and reviews and likes-- etc. You're all so generous.
> 
> I don't want to overwhelm you with A/N info, but please forgive my absence. The longer gaps in my attempt for a regular posting schedule are due to my depression/ptsd issues and I don't get much of anything done when that flares up, much less writing :/
> 
> I won't disappear again without notice, and this story has a definite place it's going! I won't leave you all hanging. <3 your reviews/comments and kudos mean SO much to me and are actually very helpful for the writing process, not to mention, I love hearing from you all! hope this chapter eases the gap a little :)


	10. Control

7 Months Earlier.

“Odin’s fuckin’ ball sack.”

His ears prick up, and although Sif’s proposition to travel the realms is intriguing.... Nothing rivals Darcy Lewis. Especially an angry Darcy Lewis.

She’s scrolling through something on her phone. With a little magic he’s able to decipher SHIELD’s “request” to work under the Avenger’s initiative. Jane and Thor are due back in a few days, and Darcy had been invoking all sorts of colorful curses in addition to slander against Odin. Her tension had been pulling her emotions like puppet strings. He watches her full lips and brows eyes worry over her options and future. He’s seen enough of her to know her thoughts without eavesdropping on her thoughts. He skims the surface of her aura, his magic resisting the storm around her. 

He pulls back at the sting, surprised by the angst emanating from his temptress. The fine angle of her chin lifts to release the sigh she’s been holding back all day. Her crone of a mother shouts from somewhere else in the house and sympathizes with the snarl from Darcy’s throat. She starts to unlatch her windows, despite the uncharacteristic Pacific gale outside. He helps her open the other windows, careful to divert her attention with a falsely stubborn latch. 

The fir trees and solal outside her window scent the air with a smell he knows she finds relaxing. His senses, though a realm away, feel invigorated in her ecstasy. His heartbeat stutters at the clearing expression on her face. With a phantom finger he smooths the crease between her brows, smoothing the tension away from her temples.

He cups her face in his hands, smoothing away her chestnut flyaways. This is what it feels to revere someone, to worship them. She shudders under caresses she will take to be the wind. He watches her eyelids flutter away a tear that could be from exposure, or fear. Hating the indulgence, he places a kiss on it wishing to taste her fear.

He knows her aimlessness. The haunting question that recalls nightmares, that runs tempers short:

“What now?”

She stretches, a goddess under a coniferous temple. 

He lowers himself to his knees, finding solace in her loneliness. 

+  
The Present.

Darcy sing-songs his name in the way she knows he hates, watching his sleeping face twist like the sheets between her legs. “Wake up, god of slumber. We have a phrase in America: the early bird gets the worm. You’d like Ben Franklin.”

He groans. “Do you ever cease talking?”

She contorts her face into an expression worthy of combating his despair. “I’m not usually this chatty. But there’s something about you that just makes me want to take verbal paint thinner to your exterior.” She gestures to his naked broad shoulders and still-sleeping face.

Loki’s mouth twists and bubbles into something that almost resembles a smile. Before she has a chance to react, he stretches an arm out, pulling her into him. 

“Woah, didn’t take you to be the post-coital cuddling type.” She says, carefully concealing her trepidation.

He brushes the curtain of her hair aside, adjusting himself so that she can taste his scent. “I’m not usually,” He kisses the pulse beneath her ear. “But you simply taste...” He licks and nips at the spot that has always been her kryptonite, “heavenly.” 

Her mind fogs for a bit, and she forgets their conversation while he explores her skin. She holds onto his shoulders for the affirmation of sturdy warmth-- she won’t drown again. “Loki,” She pants, putting a hand to his chest. “Loki. Um....”

He purrs and it almost kills her.

“I need to ask you...” What you’re thinking? What next? What is this?

He pauses, and the grey color of his eyes fills her vision. 

“Um. Why were you...spying on me?” She feels herself blush when he pulls away from her. Shit.

He settles himself against the headboard, focusing on something beyond the four walls of his room. “You prayed to Odin without meaning to. I happened to be on the receiving end at that time.”

She shudders under the sheets. “Sure hope Jesus doesn’t have a similar system. He’s probably witnessed some nasty shit.”

They chuckle together, a sound that has become musical to her. She closes her eyes to that sentiment. She doesn’t know where this can possibly go. He’s practically immortal. She’ll stick to jokes for now.

“So. Did you ever catch me picking my nose or something embarrassing like that? Wait-- I don’t think I want to know. Just tell me I looked like a model every time you decided to play Edward Cullen.” 

Loki feigns thoughtfulness. “Asking me to conjure such stories will take some time and considerable imagination....”

She seizes the opportunity of their different levels to give him a good smack. “Yeah, okay, hilarious.” 

He gives her a toothy expression, pulling his lower lip through his teeth. Ready to pounce.

There’s a knock at the door and he groans, falling on top of her. She fights for air, swatting his dark waves out of her face and cursing him. She steals the sheet (leaving him to pose a la “paint me like one of your French girls”-- a reference he apparently doesn’t know) and flings open the front door grinning “Velkommen!”

Iron Man tilts the metal head to the side, Tony’s visor sliding up. “I don’t know what I expected, actually.”

She freezes, unsure of how to respond. Stark lets himself into the cabin, shutting the door behind him. He calls out a name, and she jumps at the blur of a red bob rising up from the couch. 

“Why-- how did you find us?” Darcy finds herself stammering.

Loki, at that moment, has appeared by her side, fully clothed in his Asgardian regalia. “I’d answer swiftly if you value your lives.”

Darcy feels caught in limbo, like she’s a fly on the wall of a top secret SHIELD meeting. She’s as invisible as she can possibly feel while standing in nothing but a bedsheet. 

“That’s a lot of threat coming from someone who’s outnumbered,” the Black Widow says with an arched brow.

She cringes as Loki saunters towards the two with venom dripping from every word. “I have more access to my powers than you assume. And I don’t see your green pet anywhere.”

“Funnily enough,” Stark is unfazed. “It took us longer to find him than it took to find you, even with all your magic powers.”

Agent Romanoff seems to flinch, and that’s when she latches her focus on Darcy. “Stark. We need to remove Lewis from the premises.”

Loki’s head snaps in her direction, and her blood chills under the split second of anger before turning to anxiety. Darcy doesn’t know what her own face reflects, and clenches the sheet.

Stark’s suit whirrs as the blue light in his palms light up. “If this scenario is what I think it is, you’ll wish the Hulk was the one putting you in your place,” His visor snaps shut.

Before Darcy knows what to do or say, her upper arm is in the vice of Iron Man. Loki and Agent Romanoff square off across from each other. She’s nearly to the door when she starts shouting.

“Wait! Hear him out! Stop! I need to put some frickin’ clothes on for that weather so at least let me change before you guys start tearing up the house!”

There’s a long pause before the Iron Man suit releases her in a soft brush of metal. Romanoff still corners Loki while he relaxes, his gaze fixed on her. 

She wants to say something, to tell him to not be an idiot, but her heart is pounding as quickly as her bare feet up the stairs to her room. In the quiet she tries not to hyperventilate. There’s no way she’s going to let them think he... her muscles tighten and her stomach rolls. She didn’t THINK she’d been brainwashed. She can’t get a grip on her clothes and the anxieties she’d left unresolved attack her relentlessly. What could she say? 

“Oh, I got bored and maybe got horny for homicidal psychopaths.” 

Fuck.

She was in so much trouble. 

+

It was the longest, most uncomfortable road trip she’d ever been on. Agent Barton and Dr. Banner had shown up once she’d finally gotten back down stairs. The six of them got into a blue van that could’ve belonged to her grandpa in the 90s. Loki must’ve willingly taken the cuffs and muzzle for them to peacefully (albeit tensely) push him between Dr. Banner and Agent Barton in the back seat. The whole way to the airport Stark complained about their transport while Barton and Romanoff told him to quit whining. Apparently Captain America’s subtle hints to blend in better with society was taking hold. At least in some areas. Still. She thought for sure she’d be waking up any minute. 

She chances a glance over her shoulder at Loki, who slowly meets her eyes. Her heart clenches painfully and she faces front so the men flanking his side don’t notice. The grocery bag with her few belongings sit next to her on the scratchy bench seat. She focuses on the Norwegian landscapes before they reach the airport. Stark and Banner disappear while Romanoff and Barton stand with them in the near empty halls.   
She catches Loki watching her and tries to smile. She’s never seen him so... harmless. He looks humbled and fragile with his hands bound and nothing but his eyes to communicate with her. It’s unnerving. Her nausea returns and she shifts uncomfortably, trying to decide what to do. 

They load the small plane single file, and Darcy plops herself next to Loki before anyone has a chance to act otherwise-- including herself. 

She doesn’t leave his side through the next stop and boarding the next flight. 

When they land in America, The Avengers have all changed into Civilian clothes, and forced Loki to do the same. They meet Captain America, Thor, and Jane on the fairway. She’s nearly knocked over by Jane’s crushing hug. When they come around, Thor pockets Loki’s muzzle in his denim pockets, making everyone tense and scowl. 

“Thor,” Jane starts, her grip firm on Darcy’s arm.

“Brother,” Thor steps closer to Loki so that he’s practically forced to look him in the eye. “Is it safe to return to the Avengers headquarters for now?” 

Stark laughs bitterly, Jane and the Captain frown. 

She doesn’t hear Loki’s answer because Jane is worrying her with questions about her vitals and taking her pulse, checking for a concussion or something.

She’s exhausted of traveling, but gets into the SUV with Jane and Banner to make the final stretch of her journey “home”. She thinks she now views SHIELD as anywhere but home, and wonders if that’s because of Loki or the idyllic cabin she’d been staying in. It’s dark, but she knows they’re getting close to resting. Jane is quizzing her for anything she might need now that she’s back and won’t be getting her hands on her own things any time soon. Jane makes a list of vitamins and toiletries, and that’s when she realizes she’s been off the pill for over a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of my apology for a lengthy gap in posts ;)
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! It just makes my day to see them <3
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this one! Things are gonna start getting dicey.... o.O


	11. Thunder

Breakfast the next morning was a struggle for many reasons. Firstly, she had to get up ungodly early to make a trip to SHIELD and then to the wreckage of Avengers HQ. Secondly, Jane was taking her sweet time getting ready, leaving Darcy with Thor for breakfast. There was also the complication of not getting much sleep, as she spent the entire night trying to repress her anxieties. 

Thor looked about as spread thin as she felt while he made his way through breakfast at a pace that was uncharacteristic. Darcy wasn’t awake enough to stomach the acidity of her coffee and settled for the same brandless, stale cereal Thor was having. She had to call his names more than once to get his attention. When he finally blinked to awareness it was only after Darcy poked his beefy forearm. His warm smile calmed several of her worries for the day. If anyone was here to help her and Loki, it was him. Their quiet breakfast was interrupted by frustrated cursing from the shower and sounds of Jane fumbling various toiletries as she was wont to do when stressed. When Thor returned from checking on her, he wore a face she was all too familiar with.

Jane was one of a kind. She was clumsy and stunning, brave and brainless, smart and genuine. She was the type of girl Darcy had always found enviable, with the ambition and drive to know what she wanted and to be dauntless enough to get it. Perhaps it was a good thing she worked for the woman, so that she could suppress any longing or FOMO feelings that would’ve arisen had they been friends first. 

Still. For all the charm of Dr. Foster, Darcy knew better than anyone else in her life what a mess she was. She tried to hide it from Thor. And while he was catching on, it was obvious to both him and Darcy that her visits to Asgard always left her more anxious that revived. 

“She’s having nightmares again?” 

Thor’s expression lifts for a moment and leans across the table to whisper his response, as if his deep voice was easily concealed by that. “It was even worse when she came to me before they found you.” He casts a worried glance at the door to Jane’s room. “Was it like this before?”

Darcy shrugs. Before he came back again? Before the aether? Before his mom died to save her? Before the attack in London? “Yeah, buddy. It’s been going on for a long time.”

Thor isn’t an idiot. Guilt sinks into him, and Darcy can’t help but feel sick with guilt either. She spent the majority of her absence banging one of Jane’s nightmares.

Loki should’ve been her nightmare. 

And now? If... If there was any possibility...

“Okay, I guess I didn’t do laundry before my trip to Asgard this last time. Can you two tell I’m wearing a bikini for underwear?” Jane practically falls out of her room, wet ponytail dampening the back of her flannel, uggs and denim skirt ensemble tripping towards the door in search of her keys.

They assure her she looks fine and Thor picks up her keys hanging next to his Hammer in the hall. 

It feels almost like any other day.

+

“Why is it,” Fury rubs his brow. “Whenever anomalies in the universe occur, it’s always you three?”

Darcy coughs not so subtly. 

“And you miss Lewis, of course.” Fury looks to be three minutes away from blowing chunks.

“I never got my iPod back. I filled out the paperwork three times!” She knows she’s purposefully trying to cause trouble to distract herself from Loki. But if anything works to distract her, it's her lost iPods.

They had barely entered the Lobby when Loki, Fury, and Agent Hill met them. Darcy found herself staring at the back of Loki’s head while they were being lead to seperate rooms. He only once looked back at her before the door closes behind her.

Agent Hill gestures to a chair across from her. Darcy can hardly coach herself down from the hysteric screaming in her head: “I NEED AN INTERGALACTIC PREGNANCY TEST RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” Realistically she couldn’t possibly know yet. Could she? Fuck. She couldn’t remember. All she knew was she was going to the nearest drugstore and hitting up the family planning counter right away. 

Agent Hill stares at her expectantly.

“Sorry! Can you repeat the question?”

She relaxes her posture a bit and seems to pull on her kid-gloves. “We have footage leading up to your disappearance, Miss Lewis. Do you mind walking me through what happened after that?”

Darcy takes a deep breath and plunges into what feels like an hour or so recount of her nearly three months with Loki. She doesn’t hold back any details of what he tells her of the creepy space guy who’s out to get Loki, or any details about the plan to let the Avengers find them. She wants to make Loki seem as chill as possible for a kidnapper. He didn’t exactly keep her hostage. She leaves out the personal things she’s learned about the Trickster God, though. She does it on instinct, wanting to protect his privacy-- which she doesn’t realize is completely messed up until she has to pause when she comes to the part of the story she was really hoping she wouldn’t have gotten to.

She had made a pros and cons list last night in regards to telling SHIELD about her tryst with the Asgardian-cum-Frost Giant:

Pro: potential help with potential issues 

Con: SHIELD knows she fucked Loki

Pro: Loki comes across not as bad looking as he could

Con: Why the fuck does that matter to her? He DID kidnap her and use her as a human shield! Also her sex life is her business. So.

Pro: Access to really good psychologists who can tell her how fucked up in the head she is.

Con: Access to really good psychologists who can tell her how fucked up in the head she is.

 

So there she was. Gaping at Maria Hill mid sentence, worrying about his privacy when Loki himself had spied on her and leaked details of her personal life to SHIELD only months before. Agent Hill tilts her chin to her chest and raises her brows, silently calling Darcy out on the lie she can’t decide whether or not to tell.

 

+

Jane met her after her interview with a stale donut and coffee. It was a godsend after the stressful hours in the dark space age interview room, and the breath of fresh air sounded perfect. Captain America himself gets an agent to drive them to Thor’s current location.

Darcy nearly drops her cold Styrofoam cup when they eventually pass the entrance of Avengers HQ. She tunes out agent rando as he veers off the road towards the half of the building that has collapsed in on itself. A couple familiar silhouettes stand several feet away looking at it. Jane heads straight towards Thor and Dr. Banner, while Darcy can’t help but lag behind. 

“An earthquake?” Dr. Banner is shaking his head. “No way. It would’ve taken something way more substantial to bring this building down. It’s built to withstand the big guy.”

Jane nods. “That was my reaction, too. What did Loki say, Thor?”

Darcy’s ears prick up, and tries to act casually, inserting herself in the semi-circle of prestigious people. She feels so small she almost wants to go back with the random agent guy.

“There’s....a being who could have caused this damage. And its possible he did this trying to find Loki.” Darcy notices he doesn’t meet Jane’s widening eyes.

Dr. Banner scoffs incredulously. “What could anyone want with that....punk?” His jaw tenses in search of a better word.

Thor’s answer is to stare meaningfully before swinging his gaze back to the wreckage. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence wherein Jane crosses her arms and stares expectantly at Thor, Dr. Banner asks Jane to take a look at something science-y, leaving Darcy and Thor in silence.

“Darcy...” Thor turns to her after Jane has walked a safe distance.

She pats his arm. “It’s okay, dude--”

He continues on, squeezing his hand around hers. “No, Darcy. Understand that my willingness to trust in Loki’s tale has nothing to do with.... If he laid so much as a finger--”

Darcy wriggles her fingers in his giant grip, laughing nervously. “No, really! It’s okay. I believe him too.”

By the frozen expression on Thor’s face, Darcy realizes this is probably the first time anyone’s said that to him. “I mean, it makes sense. Kinda like the food chain of world domination, y’know? Big guy makes the little guy a deal by giving him an army to take over Earth, ends up manipulating him and swears to hunt him down and destroy him when he fails.... Your brother made a deal with the devil all caught up in his own anguish, and--boom!” She flails an arm out over the carnage before them. “It’s just kind of.... ends up differently than he planned.”

The silence is so thick Darcy has to kick herself to look at Thor again. “Or something like that. Anyway, I believe we’re in danger at least.” Hopefully THAT doesn’t sound too...unpatriotic.

Thor seems to process this slowly. Darcy sucks down the rest of her cold coffee. 

“He didn’t hurt you?” He says finally, quietly.

Darcy takes a deep, decisive breath and shakes her head while looking up into his blue eyes. 

He gives an abrupt nod in answer, letting relief ease the tension between his brows.

“So. Out of curiosity,” She pipes up while they watch geese fly across the fields beyond them. “How potent is Frost Giant sperm?”  
Thor makes a strangled sound somewhere above her.

+

The circular container was meant to hold the Hulk, Thor had told her. He had given her his access code so she could go talk to him late that night when change of the guard occurred. She had no intention of visiting Loki to talk about anything she’d talked about with Thor, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since her interview with Agent Hill.

She wanted to know if he’d told them. How much he’d told them. And maybe, part of her wanted to see if he was alright.

“Glass containers probably feel like home to you,” She muses, rousing him from whatever catatonic state he’s in.

Immediately he strides over to meet her. She worries he’ll run into the glass. “Darcy,” he hums. It does something to her brain and she shifts beneath his gaze. 

“How’s your magic feeling?” She asks sheepishly.

His brows raise. “I’m not expending as much energy as before....”

She shoves her hands in her pockets. “No chance of scrambling their surveillance feed so it looks like I’m never here?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile, and she knows he’s already done it. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

Darcy leans against the rails surrounding the giant dark hole dug into the earth beneath his prison. “Thought this was the perfect time for a strip tease?”

He’s amused but doesn’t buy it.

“Fine,” She hauls herself up, reprimanding herself for fidgeting. “Did you tell them about...”

Loki’s grin screams mischief and she doesn’t know whether to be relieved or not. “Tell them what?”

They beat about like this a few more rounds, and by the time he confesses, she remembers the biggest reason she didn’t tell SHIELD about them: her attraction to him is dangerous. Finally he tells her, no, he did not.

“Why?” She presses.  
He studies her as though he’s undressing her, and she fights for focus. 

“I want things between us to be....between us.” He lifts a brow to her. “Why didn’t you?”

Darcy rolls her shoulders back, trying to throw a sexy smolder his way. “I want to keep my options open without interference.”

He towers over her, his lips twitching in a hungry manner. “I’ll remember that.”

Darcy can’t help but swing her hips a bit as she turns to go. “I’m sure you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a different pace here, but hopefully it's not unwelcome :) More Loki is for sure in the books, but I felt like it was time for a Darcy-centric chapter. Also Thor. Gotta love that big muscley dude ^.^ Love writing his and Darcy's friendship.
> 
> THANK YOUUUUU to everyone's kudos and comments. It makes me SO happy to see them and makes me want to update the minute I hear feedback from you all <3
> 
> PS: follow me on tumblr if you dare, and feel free to chat with me! minorscrapesandbruises dot tumblr etc :)


	12. Positive

Frigga pulls back his hair, tying it’s tangled mess with some thread. She teaches him to send the balls of tapestry string weaving on their own. She wipes the tears from his ruddy, frustrated face. She smells like lilacs and waterfalls. His father returns with Thor from hunting, his brother thrown over his shoulders. The tanned, strong forearm sweeps under him. Both boys giggle and yell as their father whirls them through the room. His mother blurs in and out of his vision, he grabs Thor’s hand as their father sends them flying towards the pile of furs.

His mother, smiling and beautiful, shatters into a thousand specks of dust.

Thor can’t hold on to him no matter how much he believes he can. He has been slipping for years, and it’s the roar of his father’s voice- once the thing he cherished more than anything- cursing him.

A coldness that makes his teeth ache and his fingers burn. His skin chaps and cracks. He tastes blood. And then there’s peace so inhuman, he’d do anything to feel this powerful forever.

Anything.

He’s hungry, so hungry. And angry. He wants blood. Revenge, they call it. They call him a tyrant, a homicidal psychopath. He’s not afraid. He knows it. He’s hungry, and has a debt to pay. He wants it. He wants justice.

His mother, smiling and beautiful, shatters into a thousand specks of dust.

He’s left inhaling ashes.

And in them, though every sense has gone chalky, the hunger doesn’t abate. His will weaves a serpent, his wrath sculpts a wolf. A woman’s voice chills him as her song causes the world to darken. Rain, drip drip drip drips on his face, stinging his tender skin with each drop.

He can’t help but feel euphoric while the serpent swallows. He trembles in fear while the wolf breaks it’s fast and hunts. The haunting siren song has turned to wailing.

And his mother, who smiled at him. His mother who saw something beautiful in him though he knew he was a monster.... His mother shatters into a thousand specks of dust.

And then, Darcy.

And then, he dreams nothing.

+

Thor visits him after the guard has taken away the tray of inadequate Earth food. He quiets every reaction in his blood, instead remaining cool and indifferent.  
Thor’s expression mirror’s the gleam he’d held in Loki’s dream. Loki rolls his eyes.

“Brother! How are you?” He sets the hammer at his feet.

Loki feels his eyes narrow at the gesture of trust. He takes his time in responding, being sure to show Thor how long it takes him to walk the perimeter of his cell. “You don’t care about my contentment or comfort, Thor. Why are you here?”

The blond winces and squares his shoulders on the next breath. “I do care, Loki. But I am also here to discuss something with you.”

He knows what it is. “I’ve told you I won’t speak of it again.”

“You must,” Thor’s voice builds. “If what you say is true, you’re in danger. We all are. ...And lady Darcy.”

Loki’s relaxed perch tips. He quickly recovers, but he knows Thor would’ve seen it. “That being is only concerned with me. You, and anyone else, would be collateral damage if he finds me.”

Thor frowns. “Have there been any signs since we last spoke?”

He scoffs. “Do you mean, have I had any dreams of the All Father’s spirit hiding in Vanaheim? Or that Thanos’ fist has closed around my throat vanishing into cold air? A bind isn’t mystic, any buffoon in court would know that.”

“You’re being defensive, Loki.” Thor warns.

“IF I feel the bond, or the diadem, my blood will run more cold than my ancestry can be held accountable for. I’ll go catatonic as the world around me crumbles at my feet. All near will shake in fear and while the world collapses, I will be the only left standing. There won’t be a being alive who WON’T see the signs of my inevitable punishment for an unfulfilled debt if Thanos nears. Not even you.” The glass has fogged in front of him, but he doesn’t deflate. The stress has been building since he’d awoke in a cold sweat from his dream. that morning.

Thor nods. “This bond, can there be anything more done to ensure you’re hidden from its trace on you?”

Loki sneers. “My freedom would be best if you want to protect your precious humans.”

The Asgardian nods and picks up the weapon. It glares in the bright light around them. “And what of Lady Darcy?”

He blinks. Why did he keep bringing her up? Unless.... “What of her?” He forces carelessness into his voice.

Thor pauses in his retreat, slowly turning back. “She has not... She’s not spoken with you?” Thor’s surprise is not subtle.

Nevertheless, it unsettles him. “Why would she?”

He scratches his beard. “....I don’t know.”

“What?!” Loki has to restrain from kicking the glass.

Thor hesitates only one more minute, his jaw swinging up and down, before rushing off.

“Always was a terrible liar,” Loki grumbles to himself and worriedly starts pacing the cell.

+

As much as Darcy respected Agent Hill, the last few weeks of presentations and strategy meetings were getting old. And today, Stark had some horrible, spinny graphic that rotated above the conference table. Darcy wasn’t even sure why she had to be in these meetings. She was fairly certain it was just because SHEILD wanted to keep an eye on her and Jane, what with Asgard diplomacy apparently tense.

Things around SHIELD were pretty boring, despite the fact that they had Loki in a cell somewhere. Her thoughts constantly wandered back to him whenever she and Jane got sucked into one of these things. If it wasn’t plans for HQ restoration, it was weird meetings about ethics and contracted agents (like Jane) that went on for way longer than Darcy felt necessary.

She wasn’t sure what today’s meeting was about. All she knew was that Dr. Banner and Stark kept rotating the stupid projection back and forth. She’d already felt sick this morning as it was. One spin too far, and Darcy almost knocked her chair over in effort to escape.

+

She blindly groped for something to wipe her face on, not wanting to get off the tile-- even though she knew she was probably stewing in germs. When she carefully pushed the bathroom stall door open, she felt her stomach lurch again. She froze. Not just because the Black Widow was staring lasers through her, but because she was afraid she’d barf again.

Darcy pretended that everything was normal, hoping that if she just washed her hands and left as usual she wouldn’t get killed.

“How’re you feeling?” The redhead’s apathy is loaded.

“Well, a little hungover to be honest. Y’know how it is,” Darcy chuckles.

Agent Romanoff says nothing. She doesn’t even laugh.

“....Or not.” Darcy mumbles to herself and reaches for a paper towel.

Deciding to make a quick exit, feeling inexplicably anxious (despite the fact she was being stalked by an assassin) and queasy again. Before she opens the door the woman blocks her exit by shoving something in her face.

“Um, what’s this?” Darcy’s vision reels as she takes a step back.

“It’s a pregnancy test.” Agent Romanoff deadpans.

Darcy laughs maniacally. This is not happening. Nope. No way.

“You pee on it.” She pushes it into her sternum so Darcy’s forced to take a step back or take it.

“I know that!” Darcy almost screams. You’ve gotta chill out, she coaches herself. Play it cool. “I’m not pregnant.”

She twists it slightly, pulling the skin.

It doesn’t hurt, but it nags the question she’s been ignoring. Darcy snatches it. “I don’t need this.”

Agent Romanoff leans against the door and tilts her head towards a stall.

Feeling like she’s about to be executed by a firing squad, Darcy goes to pee on the stick.

+

He’s sleeping when she finally is allowed to see him. It took her, Thor, and a surprise swing-vote by Captain America to let her be the first to convince Fury. After the most awkward and silent fifteen minutes of her life, Darcy left Agent Romanoff to get some air. Thor found her and explained there was an emergency meeting with Fury and a few of the Avengers. By which, he meant everyone but Stark. At least they’d decided she’d be humiliated enough without his inevitable jokes.

And here they were, the first time they’d had true privacy in weeks. The first time she’d visited him since she’d started to worry in earnest.

“Loki?” She waits almost a full minute before tapping the glass and calling him again.

The spark she feels when his eyes open flares for the moment of unguarded desire in them, and dulls when his mask snaps into place.

“Darcy? They let you in? At this hour?” He props himself up as clumsily as she thinks she’ll ever see him.

“Yeah. Wait, how do you know what time it is?”

He smirks, pointing at the digital clock on the wall behind her.

“Oh.” Her mouth dries. The nausea resurfaces.

“You’re beautiful.”

She almosts trips over herself. He said it so easily, as if it was as true to him as breathing.

He laughs at her speechlessness and whispers. “I wish I could touch you.”

Darcy feels her cheeks burn. “Loki...”

“They know,” he cuts her off. “Thor isn’t very subtle. I’m sure they’ve guessed it from him by now. I’m surprised they’d let you near me.”

She nods, trying to force words out. “Yeah.... I didn’t tell them. Just Thor.”

His smile makes her wish he COULD touch her. “I know.”

She steels herself. “You’re not upset?”

Loki has become many things since she’d first met him. Since she’d first heard of him. She doesn’t know how he’ll take it. Will he watch the world burn? Stop her heart? Or will he watch, like he had for all the times she hadn’t known she’d been watched. Will he watch over them?

Loki’s lips pull back into another suggestive smile. “It’s quite possibly my greatest mischief yet.”

Darcy wheezes a laugh. “You have no idea.”

He tilts his head, still practically glowing in pheromones.

“I have to tell you something...” Darcy feels the words die as she speaks them. “You know all those times we had sex? Well, turns out, I’m an idiot. And I....Well, I’m pregnant.” She tries to continue but can only stutter the beginning of words.

Loki’s eyebrows rise and he slowly sits on his heels.

“Oh god. Please say something or I’ll puke on the floor, I swear to god.” Darcy blurts, touching her forehead to stop the ache and to see if she’s really here. If this is really happening.

Loki continues to stare at something beyond her, but eventually he rests his forehead on the glass.

“I...I can come back later....” Darcy thinks she can actually feel the world spinning and wants nothing more than to curl up in her bed with some ice cream.

“Darcy,” Loki’s voice stops her, his hand pressing against the glass.

She flushes, impulsively pressing her hand against his. He watches her, hungry and excited. He laughs, throwing his head back and returning to her with black wisps over his face, his eyes alit with exhilaration. “Darcy, Darcy,” He pants through a smile.

It falters, and falls into fear so quickly it frightens her. “This... I don’t know what could happen if....If you decide.... I can take it from you now, Darcy. It would be as if it never existed.”

“No!”

She surprises herself, and Loki, and everyone else watching the conversation on the cameras in the next room she’s sure.

“Shit.” Darcy puts her head in her hands. “What the hell is wrong with me? Of course. OF COURSE I’d want to keep it. Why wouldn’t I? I’m totally prepared for this. I’m TOTALLY parent material. YOU don’t even know if I can, do you? No, you don’t. You don’t. What the hell is wrong with you, Darcy Lewis? What. theeverlovingFUCK. IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Loki whistles sharply through his teeth at her. “Breathe, Darcy. You’ll hyperventilate.”

“I’m insane. I’m literally in hysterics.” Darcy shakes her head.

“You can do this. Whatever your desire, I’ll support you.”

She hears her bones crack when she snaps her head back up to him. He means it. He’s sincerely focused on her, his emotions somewhere behind the mask. He’s chaos and magic, mischief and lies, Asgardian and Jotun royalty. And he’s waiting on her. Patiently.

She meets him in the eye of the storm. Where it's calm. And still.

“I want to keep it.”

He smiles slowly, like he doesn’t know if he should.

“Miss Lewis?” Fury pulls the plug, followed by Dr. Banner and Thor in addition to the guards. “Your time is up.”

Loki stands so quickly she’s reminded of the dog her Dad had when she was little, how it would protect her from the passing car or jogger on the street.

“You don’t know, then, what could happen?” Thor meets them. “Loki, could she be in danger?”

Loki pales, but recovers quickly. “I won’t let them be in harm’s way.” He snarls.

“Miss Lewis,” Dr. Banner says softly, taking her by the elbow. “We should get you in the lab to check your physical changes as soon as possible. Since Loki doesn’t know--”

“She doesn’t have to do anything you say!” Loki snaps.

“Loki!” Darcy snaps back.

“Miss Lewis,” Fury interjects. “I need to have a word with Mr. Mischief. You’re dismissed.”

“Hey!” Darcy starts indignantly. She slips out of Dr. Banner’s grasp, quickly blocked by the guards who’ve closed off even Thor. Darcy (whose balance was already off to begin with!) fell when they stopped her, causing Loki to yell.

His protective support had gone from a tender moment to chaos. He zapped the guard who’d blocked her. By the time she’d registered what was going on, a guard hit a button on the control, zapping Loki. Thankfully, Thor lost his cool almost as much as she did. They both shouted at Fury it was an accident, and the guards who were following protocol stubbornly restated their duty. Loki yelled. Dr. Banner started to make for the exit while loosening his collar.

By the time Fury screams for order Darcy’s already been pushed into the hallway out of harm's way. She fumes about mindless drone agents to Dr. Banner, but as she rounds the corner she finds he’s not the only scientist waiting for her.

“What the hell is going on, Darcy?” A frazzled Jane gestures to the chaos behind her.

“You owe me four grand, Bruce.” Stark says after a quick up-down of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. This is the longest chapter so far. Definitely doesn't make up for the wait, but I think my excuse is valid since I've begun new medication and treatment :P Those first couple weeks are horrible, let me tell you. I had a super bad block, but today the veil lifted, and the muse told me to work on this instead of something else.
> 
> Thank you all for your support. Whether its comments, kudos, follows, etc. it truly makes my day. Whenever I get the notifications I get a small jolt of giddiness-- which is no small thing to me at this point in my life. Writing this and hearing from you all makes me feel something. 
> 
> So, thank you for your patience and support <3


	13. Stars

Jane’s usually honey glow was yellowish in the makeshift lab of Dr. Banner’s. Thor had returned to her side, and Darcy couldn’t be sure whether it wasn’t for her sake. She hadn’t looked Jane in the face and said “I’m pregnant with Loki’s kid”, but somewhere between Dr. Banner and Stark’s silent and awkward fight Jane must’ve began putting the pieces together. Agent Romanoff made a point of splitting the group and walking towards where the labs had been relocated for the time being. 

Darcy tried to keep up with Dr. Banner, who was telling Stark to get lost; that it really wasn’t appropriate for him to be involved with it, and to go check on Cap and Thor. That’s when Jane snagged Darcy and pulled her aside.

“It’s not the flu, is it?” 

Darcy swallowed. She’d wondered when her excuses would wear thin. But she’d never intended to keep Jane in the dark. Well, at least, not consciously. “Not exactly.”

Jane closed her eyes, taking a moment to breathe through her thoughts. “Loki?”

It wasn’t her proudest moment. Darcy pulls out of Jane’s arms and catches up with Dr. Banner.

+

Now she was trying to avoid Jane and Thor’s gaze while Dr. Banner took blood tests. He hands her a cotton ball, organizing the several vials he’d taken from her. “I’ve done these tests before. Some on me, and some on other people.” He shyly shakes his head, “Well, I’ve never used them for something like this. But it should give us a good idea of what we’re dealing with.”

Jane’s complexion matches the distant look in her eyes. Despite Thor by her side, she seems ready to take over for Dr. Banner at any moment. Astrophysicist or not, she’s emanating anxiety and disapproval like a fog machine.

Dr. Banner brings a machine that he dug out of a closet and sets it on the counter next to her. He plugs something into the computer before him, and after a few moments and hesitations he turns to her with a decided look in his eyes. “I think we should try an ultrasound.”

Darcy’s mouth goes dry. She’d told Loki she wanted to keep it. And as Dr. Banner explained the different methods for ultrasounds, Darcy realizes that there’s a life inside her. She mutely nods and takes the towel offered to cover her and takes off her pants while the others look away. She shivers at thee cool counter top and tries to ignore that the Hulk is lubing up a wand that will go inside her. He tilts the screen towards her and discretely gets to work.

She doesn’t understand the colors and shadows on the screen. Dr. Banner pauses every few moments, entering things into the computer. There’s nothing that looks clearly like a baby to her. She realizes it’s probably too early for that. Dr. Banner eventually tells her they’re finished and starts to pull away. Darcy cringes and arcs in pain. 

“Ow! What the fuck?!”

Dr. Banner freezes, looking alarmed. 

Jane’s by her side in an instant. “What’s going on?”

The computer starts making crazy noises, the screen looking like a VHS with bad tracking. “Try and calm down, Ms. Lewis....” Dr. Banner presses her knee aside and pulls the wand out. 

It’s like the worst cramps she’d ever had. Darcy starts to panic beneath the exterior of stillness she’s fighting for. Her mind flashes with eight hundred scenarios of tragedy. Morbid visions soaked in blood come to her mind. “I will NOT be Sybill!” She chants to herself, gritting her teeth. “This is NOT some Downton Abbey bullshit!”

“Oh my god.” Jane’s gasp pulls her focus.

It takes a moment for Darcy to see what the others have seen. The wand in Dr. Banner’s hand is caked in ice. He quietly rips his hand off of it, leaving the latex glove and a bit of skin with it. The device drops to the ground, shattering.

“Lady Darcy?” Thor is suddenly filling her vision which has started to darken at the corners. 

He says something to her, but she’s not listening. Sitting up slowly because of the pain she lifts the hem of her shirt. The top of her pelvis and hip bones are so white they’re nearly blue. Her stomach is frosting over, blue veins popping. She fights for consciousness. Dr. Banner and Thor are shouting, running through the door that seems a mile away. Jane’s hands are grabbing hers, Jane’s voice becomes a whisper.

Things go dark.

+

The moment Thor breaks him out of the cell he’s running towards her. He can feel the pull of something he’s never felt in his chest. He ignores the shouts of SHIELD agents while he and Thor run to Darcy. 

He’s the first to her side though others are close behind them. Thor’s woman is glaring at him, daring him to touch her. He isn’t afraid of the mortal and quickly asses the situation. Darcy’s passed out, though she’s shaking furiously. He feels his stomach drop when he sees the portion of her abdomen that’s exposed.  
He summons a warming spell over her, all concentration on trying to keep his magic hidden. Darcy doesn’t respond immediately, but gradually stops shaking. The SHIELD Director is in the room now, shouting at people. Thor is shouting back. Jane is cursing at him, but he ignores her. Darcy’s chills are gone, but her temperature stays frigid. 

Her pale face sends him panicking. He’d let himself become distracted, he’d become too attached. He should’ve been more cautious and not given in to her bewitching lips. He makes a decision. As dire as Thanos finding him could become, he’d never forgive himself if Darcy Lewis died because of him. Because of his curse.

He places his hands on her lower abdomen praying he’s strong enough to still the chaos of his offspring. He cages the fear and defenses inside Darcy’s womb. He pauses, knowing this is the moment to terminate it and save Darcy. He hates himself for planting a seed that’s poisoned her, for cursing her with the part of himself he hates most. Trembling, he can almost hear Darcy’s voice on the verge of tears: “I want to keep it.” He sets his jaw and un-clenches his hands. He weaves a spell to save both their lives. This child that has tied their fate.

The world only comes back to him when Darcy’s cheeks tinge pink, when she breathes deeply. Thor and his woman have intervened on their behalf, it seems. He turns only once he knows both mother and child are safe.

“If her life is in danger, there’s no question.....” Someone is saying.

Dr. Foster cuts them off, “We can’t do anything that invasive without her permission!”

“Loki’s magic is more skilled than Midgardian procedure, we needed him here to save her,” His brother is arguing.

“Obviously, a reaction like that...”

“....Proof that Alien DNA...”

“This is why we need a different system...”

 

The Widow appears by his side, seemingly as disgusted by the chaos around them as he is. “She’s stable?”

Loki nods barely, distrusting the look in her eyes as the woman adjusts the blanket covering Darcy’s lap. 

“She wants to have the baby, doesn’t she?” Her words are spoken with the same velvet quality he’s ever heard her use, but her demeanor isn’t the same he knows the assassin to carry in the past.

She catches him studying her and raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t retreat from her stare. 

“Loki?” Thor’s voice is full of the command he’d use in battle. “Is Lady Darcy safe?”

He pivots from the Widow and gives him a look he knows will convey sureness. 

“Is she or isn’t she?” Dr. Foster blisters.

Loki tastes something acidic in his mouth and spits a yes at her. He’s in cuffs a moment later, and the room cleared but for the Avengers, the Director, and himself. A lengthy discussion begins over the fate of Darcy Lewis. They interrogate in attempt to understand what he’s done. They argue over whether to send them all to Asgard (out of the question as Loki is supposed to be dead, and Asgard is no better than Midgard in understanding what the effects of a part Jotun fetus might to to it’s Midgardian Mother in development). They argue over how to monitor Darcy, how to monitor himself, the baby. They argue over what is to be done if the baby and Darcy survive the pregnancy, whether the child would have to stay at SHIELD.... Loki feels himself grow sick with hatred. He’s ready to do something drastic by the time they dance around the possibility of terminating the pregnancy.

“It’s not our choice.” The men look over to The Widow. She’d stayed quiet, but now she stands so defiant that even the Captain shuffles aside shamefully. “It’s her body, her choice. Regardless of who the father is, it’s hers. The Avengers came together to protect.” She locks her stare on the Director. “I will protect Darcy Lewis’ right to choose.”

The Captain looks relieved and nods once in agreement.

The Ironman surveys them all over the top of his sunglasses and smacks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Shit, Natasha.”

Fury gives a rattled sigh. “SHIELD isn’t under the jurisdiction of the Avengers.”

The one Loki knows to be the Hulk shakes his head and gives a frustrated laugh. “Regardless, she’s right. It’s not ethical for us to make the call for Ms. Lewis. I-Its....” He shifts his weight from side to side. “It’s not a government organization’s right to claim protection over the entire human race at the cost of an individual’s inability to control their genetics!” 

The room crackles with tension. 

“Maybe you should take a walk, buddy.” The Archer mutters.  
Loki couldn’t agree more. He has no desire to meet the green monster. Especially while Darcy is resting in the very room.

The doctor leaves the door swinging while Stark says, “This is why we need a different accountability system...”

The Captain cuts him off with a gesture. “Not the time, Tony.”

Fury squares off at Thor, cocking his head towards Loki. “What about you two? If not Asgard, where’s the best place for this shitshow to go down?”

Thor glances at him, a distracted look coming over his face. 

Loki feels it too. The ground shakes while a crack of thunder sounds, rain pouring. The lights go out. Stark curses when the generators don’t come back on. Thor’s woman re-enters the room without permission, blindly trying to find Thor and a flashlight. The Archer finds one faster.

In the middle of this, Thor takes Loki aside, causing him to cringe. “The magic you expended for her....could this be?”

Loki nods once. The ground shakes again while the thunder rolls.

“Any chance this is you, Thor?” The Director says wearily. 

The Asgardian’s response comforts no one.

 

+

 

Darcy wakes up to star light. Disoriented, she sits up suddenly, surprised by unfamiliar sheets and a large, dark room. The last thing she remembers is pain in her stomach. It comes back to her slowly as she lifts up her shirt, poking just below her navel.

“Are you hungry or something? What’d I ever do to you?”

The curve of her stomach stares back.

An amber light cascades on the floor as the door opens. Even though she has no idea where she is, she recognizes the silhouette. Loki closes the door behind him and walks towards her with even steps. By the time he reaches the bedside, Darcy’s flung her arms around him in a crushing hug.

“They let you out of the fishbowl!”  
He laughs. “Fishbowl?”

Darcy waves him off. “Where are we?”

Loki paces the foot of the bed, explaining how he had to save her at the sake of Thanos discovering him. How so much magical activity in such a short amount of time forced an evacuation of SHIELD. How Loki was relocated to a safe house somewhere off the grid, how Darcy had to come with him so he could intervene if more complications arose. How Thor and the Avengers had access to this safe house to monitor them (much to his chagrin).

Darcy takes it all in, reading static anger into his account where he had to pause or glossed over details of how these decisions came about. “Who’s here now?”

He rolls his eyes, and she can see it even in the blue moonlight. “Thor. And his woman.”

Jane. Darcy pockets her guilt and focuses on Loki. “You saved my life.”

He stills his pacing. 

“Is...the...” Darcy looks down at herself. Struggling to articulate the word.

“It’s safe.” He takes a step towards her, unsure.

Darcy looks up at him and crawls from the center of the bed till she is face to face with him by sitting up on her knees. She kisses him softly. She feels silly doing it. Their relationship has been nothing but heated. She’d never felt so vulnerable before him. But then again, he’d saved her life. She pulls back, trying to be brave as his eyes undress her expression. She can trust him. She’ll have to if she’s going to have his.....

He bends his head and kisses her, parting the mess of hair over her shoulders. A finger barely traces her throat. Darcy hears a feminine hum escape her and feels her face blush fiercely. He doesn’t laugh at her, but closes his lips over her lower one, tugging it slightly. He presses them to the corner of her mouth, her temple, her pulse. She feels like she’s floating while he leaves wet petals all over her skin. 

She finds herself lying beneath him, his warmth drawing her into a dream. The stars blur over her while she listens to her pulse quicken. She has no clue where to go from here. She’s naked in his arms while he tenderly studies her. She should feel afraid, be terrified of the part of him he left inside her. Instead, she feels comfort in his reverent attention. She lets him wrap his arms around her. She invites him to share the blankets. She feels safe with him under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another longer one! This one got away from me and took on a mind of it's own-- hope you don't mind all the clinical stuff. I felt like this had to happen before the next few chapters did, anyway. Shouldn't get too long winded again >.


	14. Tilt

He’d hovered over her like this countless times. Her hair puffed from sleep, a small spill of drool beneath her flushed cheek. Many times he’d wished to disrupt this scene. To wake her in mischievous and erotic ways. But at the moment Loki hardly dared to breathe and risk waking her. 

Darcy Lewis. Mortal. Mother of his child.

He’d slept without dreams. He doesn’t even remember when they’d fallen asleep. All he knew was that waking up to her warmth felt more right than any throne. With hesitancy he slips a hand under the hem of her nightshirt, resting it over where he knows their child is becoming.

Darcy murmurs something incoherent and shifts under the blanket. He holds his breath, embarrassed of how vulnerable of a position he’s put himself in. She opens her eyes with only two slow blinks and smiles through a yawn.

“Pervert.”

He doesn’t suppress the toothy smirk. “Hardly.”

Darcy lowers her chin, blushing when she sees the expanse of his hand over her stomach. “Right. I keep forgetting.” 

The scrunching of her brows while she fixates on his hand ruins his moment. Nervous, he moves his hand so it slides up to tease under her breast. She snorts and he wastes no time in nibbling beneath her ear. He catches the smell of her sweat from yesterday’s trauma, but there’s something about it so soft and so....Darcy-- that he isn’t put off by it.

She purrs and rubs against the leg he’s pushed between her’s. He shivers when her tongue and teeth reacquaint themselves with the muscle wrapped from his neck to shoulder. This is why he hadn’t been able to resist. This...This.... Valkyrie had him at her mercy. He was a willing slave to her body, her eyes, her mouth. 

He adjusts himself between her thighs, tasting the valley between her breasts. Darcy moans curses and drags her fingers up his rib cage.

“Loki?” She pants with her head thrown back.

He hums, gently biting up the column of her neck.

“Oh, god... Loki...” He chuckles at her distraction. “I missed you...”

He pauses for a moment, lathing the broken capillaries with his tongue. He moves slower, more deliberately to hear her whispers.

“I missed this, I missed you,” falls off her tongue with every exhale. 

He’s captivated by the earnest tension in her throat when she breathes the words. She had wanted him, despite everything. He pushes on to his hands, watching her to discern the moment she wakes from the fantasy. Waiting for her to remember who she’s with. 

She focuses on him with a curious twist to her lips. “Loki?”

Her eyes don’t leave his face. She collects her arms from beneath them and runs them up the length of his arms to rest on his shoulder. He can’t find the lie in her lust. He can’t discern anything but her honest desire for him.

He kisses her.

+

She was surprised when he dove down to kiss her. She was trapped beneath him, but she didn’t mind. His tongue moved so confidently against hers, she had no reason to think at all about how lost he’d looked only a moment before. Kicking her foot free of the sheets, she wraps her legs around him.

They’d only just found their rhythm when the door slammed open.

“GOOD MORNING, LADY DARCY-- oh....” Thor held a large plate of breakfast food, looking for all the world like he could’ve been her father in the blue robe he had hanging open to display his shorts and slippers.

Loki grunts a string of words she can only assume are Asgardian. She laughs even when her shoots her a look over his shoulder.

“I am sorry brother... I thought Darcy was sleeping alone or...” Poor Thor looks for a place to set the food while trying to leave.

“Over a thousand years of life, and you still witlessly barge in rooms without knocking,” Loki snarls, grabbing the shirt he’d been wearing the night before.

“It’s okay, Thor.” Darcy rolls off the bed with an encouraging smile.

Loki, still unimpressed, takes the food from his brother and starts to close the door.

Darcy frowns at him, wedging between the two to take the orange juice. “I like the rocket ships, buddy.” She says, nodding to Thor’s boxers. She can practically feel Loki’s scowl behind her. 

Before Loki can force his brother out, she catches the scent of the breakfast plate. It was full of eggs and sausages. And it wasn’t a smell that appeared to agree with her. With a strangled gag, Darcy pushes past the brothers and offending dish to find the nearest bathroom.

+

Twenty minutes later (after she hears Jane open every window in the house) Darcy resurfaces and finds her way to the main room. It was large, with a kitchen and bar on one end and a fireplace on the other. The entire building seemed to have windows instead of walls. The view was a foggy marshland, and the fresh air it brought through the transoms brought further relief. 

Thor looked like a scolded puppy and jumped to greet her with apologies. Jane was blending something in the kitchen (not acknowledging her) and Loki was brooding over the view. The moment was so absurd she felt like she’d wake up at any moment.

After soothing Thor’s anxiety, she let him explain what Loki had told her last night. She knew it still probably felt like prison to Loki, but the comfort of having Thor with them while hiding out comforted her. Two Asgardian warriors was probably just as good as the other Avengers, she figured. Whatever sort of monster wanted to find Loki would surely find a match between the two of them.

Jane and Loki were still cast to opposite ends of the room by the time Thor had finished rehashing everything. 

“Is she mad at me?” Darcy whispers.

Thor looks to Jane with a thoughtful expression. “I believe she is more angry with Loki.”

She cringes, remembering how much she’s kept from Jane. She imagines Jane and Loki screaming at each other and decides now is as good a time as any to light that stick of dynamite. At least Thor was here to help her make peace.

Loki catches her eye as she shuffles into the kitchen and she tries to give him an encouraging look. When she turns to Jane, she knows she’s seen the exchange. She shoves a purple smoothie towards her.

“Here. This is probably better than the grease.”

Darcy flinches. “Jane...”

She shakes her head and goes back to cleaning the kitchen. It looks plenty clean to Darcy, but she doesn’t argue. 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can tell me that I haven’t already figured out by this point.” Jane rings out a rag in the sink.

“Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry Jane, I just didn’t know how to tell you...” She twirls the straw in her purple drink.

Jane turns on her then. “Didn’t know how to tell me what? That the guy who destroyed Puente Antiguo and tried to murder us-- hell, tried to overthrow humanity, is your baby daddy? See, it would be one thing if he’d forced you. And I thought we were friends, you know? That you’d tell me if something like that happened.... But I never thought.....”

Darcy know the other two are listening by the tension that hangs in Jane’s pause. “I’m sorry Jane. I wanted to.... I just didn’t know...”

“Didn’t know how to explain to me you lost your mind? You could die, Darcy. That-that thing almost killed you.” Jane’s face is splotchy, like she’d been crying and couldn’t cry again.

Darcy feels herself go tense at the mention of the baby. She hasn’t wanted to think about the risks, she hasn’t wanted to even acknowledge any other possibility than keeping it.

“What were you thinking?” Jane whispers through tears she tries to fight off. 

Darcy feels herself breaking, feels the lump in her throat. But Darcy doesn’t let herself cry, ever. Not even when Jane hugs her and gets smoothie on both of them. After the awkward and clumsy moment of trying to clean up, Jane glances over to her. 

“Why, Darcy?”

She sets the glass on the counter and sees Loki shift in her peripheral. How can she explain what she herself can’t explain?

“He noticed me.” She says quietly. 

Jane stops cleaning.

“He...He... I don’t know Jane. It just happened and....” She sighs, reaching for anything that feels true. “I don’t regret it.”

Startled, Jane gets the look she wears when she is working out a problem in the lab. 

“I’m keeping this baby.” Darcy repeats for herself as much as Jane. “I’m keeping it because...I made it and it will love me. And it’s father will love it too.”

Jane unabashedly looks to Thor who has obviously heard their conversation.

“Are you sure, Darcy?” He says carefully. “No one would fault you if you change your mind.”

Darcy starts to answer him, but Jane has frozen because she finished working out the problem. “Oh my god,” She mumbles. “You love him.”

The world tilts. She feels sick. “No...It’s, it’s not like that...”

Thor is watching her. Jane is watching her.

Loki is watching her.

“...It’s...No, it’s...He murdered people... I...” Darcy shakes her head, frantically trying to find a word to justify her attraction to him. “It was just sex...” She stammers on, trailing off until she has to fight her gag reflex.

Darcy decides she hates morning sickness.

+

He’s had enough. He can’t sit and pretend not to listen to the conversation a minute longer. He’s relieved when Darcy excuses herself, retching.

Darcy’s gags can be heard through the whole house. Part of him wants to go to her, but he feels as though he’s been emasculated. 

“...He murdered people...” 

He had. She should hate him for it. Furthermore, she should be afraid of his true heritage. He hates Jane and Thor for reminding her. Even though Darcy stood firm in her decision, the Foster woman’s questions had made her feel small.

He feels threatened. He feels defensive for her.

He’s upon them before he realizes he’s doing it. He walks Jane into the counter behind her, ignoring the scrape of Thor’s chair.

“I do not deserve her, I think that’s something we’re all quite aware of,” Loki growls down at her. “Beyond all reason she wanted me, and I would never deny her.”

Thor shoves him back a pace, the stern look on his face sending warnings through his subconscious mind.   
“If you push her so far again, I will take pleasure in making you regret it.” He knows by her stillness she believes him.

“Enough, Loki.” Thor steps between them.

“She’s right, though.” Loki laughs bitterly. “I’m as foolish as you. Falling for something so fleeting, so ephemeral. Without me to help her, she would die quickly. Cursed with my curse. A child sired by me will bring nothing but regret and shame to her. Even you, ever loyal, ever righteous Thor, are sickened by the thought of my bringing a child into any realm.” 

He feels the space around him disorienting himself. He feels the sky rip through him, flashes of his fall isolating him from them. 

“I will protect her, though. I will not let her die,” He points to Jane, promising her, threatening her to try and stop him. “I am not the monster you wish me to be.”

+

The day had been awkward. After Loki had finished shouting at Thor and Jane, she tried to spend some time with them while he went out to the deck and watched the moor. She drank her smoothie, she taught Thor how to play checkers. She threw up again.

Jane was extra attentive the rest of the day. They made dinner (something Darcy’s stomach would approve) and did a puzzle. 

When it started to get dark Darcy left Thor and Jane to finish the corners of the puzzle and went to find Loki. She felt extremely uncomfortable, asking him to come in and eat. The dinner itself was no better, the four of them clinking silverware and sipping water with minimal conversation. 

The minute dinner finished, Loki left. Thor cleared the plates while Jane started a fire. Darcy decided that was the best chance she’d get for slipping away unnoticed.

Loki was in a room down the hall from her. It was much smaller, and only had a couple windows near the ceiling. He was sitting cross legged, with a spattering of stars floating around him. She coughed and closed the door, to alert him. When he saw her, the stars disappeared.

“No, shoot! I thought it was cool.” She protested.

His blank look communicates nothing, but the stars flash around them again.

“So.” She settles next to him. “I take it you heard everything earlier.”

He breathes a short laugh. “And I’m sure you heard my reprisal.”  
She rocks side to side, “Wellllllll.....I mean, you didn’t exactly use your inside voice.”

He gives her the signature confused alien look.

“It wasn’t.... necessary.” She settles.

He stiffens. “It wasn’t for your benefit.”

She laughs. “Sure. We should probably talk about how we’re going to deal with our little problem once it gets here, though.”

Loke shifts towards her with an arched brow.

“The baby,” She says in a rush. “Like, what we’re gonna do about raising it, or about teaching it not to hate it’s heritage.”

He shakes his head. “There’s no sugar-coating Jotun heritage.”

“There’s no need to teach it to hate itself either.” Darcy snaps.

She feels him give up the argument. He sends the stars rotating to a different position. 

“Boy or girl?” She surprises herself by saying.

He raises his brows at her in the glow. “I didn’t think you to be so domestic.”

She shrugs. “Aren’t you curious, though?” Self-consciously, she palms her stomach. “There’s a tiny person fusing itself together in there.”

He laughs. 

“I’m serious!” Darcy laughs with him. “It’s kind of freaky to think about actually. I mean, I’ll be glad once I stop throwing up, but.... I’m gonna get all fat and imbalanced, and all the while, there’s this... LIFE inside me, hearing what I hear, eating what I eat...”

Loki puts his hand over hers. “You won’t be “fat.””

She nudges him. “You do know how this works, right?”

He kisses her temple. “Yes. But all I will see is a brave woman carrying my child.”

Darcy can’t think of a response to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo! Another chapter-- they just seem to keep getting longer! 
> 
> BIG NEWS! I'm starting a tumblr so I can better connect with you all. Your comments and other forms of support are so special to me, and I'd love to get to know you better. I'll post updates about the story and other things relevant to this Fic there :)
> 
> the url/username is surprisingriceff (dot tumblr.... etc.) 
> 
> :P the "ff" stands for fanfiction and is important to find me >.


	15. Flutter

After a couple weeks of strained passings, Darcy was at her wit’s ends with her housemates. Her adjusting hormones had seriously cramped her ability to smooth things over on a regular basis. And so, she eventually stopped trying. Her plan of disengagement would’ve worked with normal people, she was almost certain. But apparently an astrophysicist, and two aliens needed to have things spelled out for them.

It took a feat of strategy for her to get all three in the common area at once-- which she thought was ridiculous given the ultra-modern open floor plan. However, once they were all settled on various pieces of furniture Darcy pulled out her best “I’m pregnant, pay attention to me” stance and grabbed their attention. The fact was, they were left with plenty of food in the cellar and in the kitchen. Darcy, however, had other plans.

“Venison?” Jane’s face squished in distaste.

“Yup!” Darcy held her ground. “The baby wants what it wants.”

She waited for her hinting to sink in, but only blank and puzzled faces replied. Internally groaning that she had to do EVERYTHING, she spelled it out for them:

“We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and it’s not like you guys would be breaking any rules....” She innocently (if a little manipulatively) smoothed her hands over the small-but-visible baby bump.

Loki (bless him) was up in a moment, giving her a light kiss on the top of her head as he exited the room. 

“Well?” Darcy said, turning her attention to Thor. “You gonna let him go alone?”

Jane, to her credit, understood then. “Why don’t you go keep an eye on him, Thor?” 

Smiling like a retriever, Thor bounded after Loki. It wasn’t long until Jane and Darcy were left alone in a gentler silence than before. Darcy smiled to herself, grabbing a box of pop tarts and plopping next to Jane. While Wifi wasn’t a possibility, SHIELD did seem to have decent taste in DVDs. She had no problem waiting out Jane. Like Loki, she found that if she let the unspoken between them sit, Jane would eventually say what she needed too.

It didn’t take long. Jane squeezed her hand in the middle of the snake pit scene in “Indiana Jones”. Darcy turned the volume low and still strained to hear Jane’s apology through her silent tears and crushing hug. Smiling and satisfied Darcy assured her that all was forgiven.

“I guess I’m more protective of you than I need to be,” Jane snuffled into her damp kleenex. 

Darcy shrugged and controlled the shaky smile on her face. “It’s no problem, Jane. Someone’s gotta be.”

They finished the movie quietly. Darcy found herself absentmindedly touching the small bump occasionally, kicking herself for the habit that had only recently developed. It irked her because she felt silly. More than that, she found a fierce attachment to whoever it was inside her. That frightened her. There weren’t many people would openly declare she “loved”. She’d made that mistake with her mom’s second boyfriend after her parents had separated. He took the small dog and his ties and the scent of his aftershave with him. She never saw the man who’d she’d accidentally called “dad” once or twice again. 

And here she was, unabashedly in love with the child inside her. The fear of something going wrong kept her up much later than when Loki would sneak into her room in the middle of the night. She pretended to be asleep, not wanting to embarrass him. Not wanting to admit to him the fear that was growing the more her body changed. 

“You’ll be a great mom,” Jane says. Darcy hadn’t realized she was watching, though the credits were rolling now. “It suits you.”

Darcy denied the flush of insecurity. “We’ll see. It could be a disaster.”

Jane sighed heavily. “I, actually, I....I don’t think it will.”

She knew what Jane meant. Still, she couldn’t exactly see Loki making himself home in a tiny apartment, being spat-up and peed on by the future child. Part of her wanted to, it was certainly amusing. But more certainly, she knew he wasn’t the type to stay in one place very long. Even a throne in Asgard hadn’t kept his attention very well.

“How about you?” Darcy teased as her offense. “Do you see yourself with a bunch of mini Thors and nerds?”

Jane stammered. “I-That isn’t really--”

“C’mon,” Darcy laughed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of being Queen of Asgard.”

Jane sobered. “I’m not the type of person who could ever fill that role.”

Then she remembered. Jane’s past journeys to Asgard had been anything but a fairy tale. It made her tryst with Loki look like something on the cover of a cheesy “romantic” paperback that overflowed the shelves of second-hand stores.

“He loves you, Jane.” Darcy said seriously. “You two practically belong in an Austen novel. Floofy dresses and everything.”  
Jane’s shy smile showed the hope she was afraid to feel.

+

“I do not think there will be anything like venison in this wilderness, Loki.” Thor trudged through the soupy land. 

Loki was far enough away that he could pretend not to hear him.

“Will your Darcy be satisfied with foul? Or fish?”

He choked and watched the blond make his way through the marsh, disrupting any edible creature in miles. “MY Darcy?”

Thor stopped, the small waves he’d caused lapping at the toes of Loki’s boots. “Of course. I did not mean to give an impression of the sexism. Jane is patient, but Natasha says not everyone sees through it.”

The serious expression on his face hid something behind his disgustingly bright blue eyes. Loki kept walking. 

Slosh....Slosh....Slosh.

“If you’re not attached to her and don’t feel a need to please her, perhaps we could bring home some of these plants for Jane to study, she seems to think--”

“Of course I’m attached to her, you bilgesnipe!” Loki growls. “I gave my seed to her, didn’t I? For all of Helheim-- STOP! Just-- leave the plant, Thor. Leave. It.”

Loki steams. His Darcy. He had no such claim to her. She’d said herself it had been only sex. There was a now child from only that attraction. For the last week or so he’d tried to keep his distance as much as he could help it. Her laughter and large eyes always brought him to her side, as though the child in her womb kept him tethered to her apron strings. 

He knew it was more than that. But it could be nothing more. 

SloshSloshSloshSloshSlosh.

“She reminds me of Mother.”

Loki said nothing, hoping it was Thor’s inherent inability to control his limbs and a trick of the marshland. Wind. 

“Jane’s temperament more obviously does, of course. But Darcy has her wit and honesty as well.” 

Loki hadn’t even said goodbye to her. Frigga, who’d done nothing but love, and love, and love him. She was Mother to him now. She’d always be. He’d shut her out. She’d been the only one left and....

“Thor...” He warned, controlling the shake in his voice. 

Soaked through, Thor joined him on the spit of solid land. The underlying teasing gone from his demeanor. “I see her in the stars. I thought you to be with her.”

Loki hated him. He resented the endless well of compassion and the relentless seeking of the “brother” he’d lost too long ago. Geese squawked overhead, and in a fit of temper that he knew to be far too similar to the Thor who’d been banished to Midgard, he sent a fleet of rocks into their midst. A few clattered to the ground. He’d have stopped the heart of the whole gaggle could he have risked the magic. Thor followed him silently (thank Valhalla) and helped him prepare the birds for eating. He knew neither women would eat them, but Darcy had asked....

“She wanted this to happen.” He set his jaw in the direction of the lake house. She’d set him up for it. 

Thor’s laugh started as a low rumble. 

“Shut up” He spits, pulling feathers faster. The sooner in the warm, dry house; the sooner he’d take his...his....He’d take Darcy to his room and show her who the real God of Mischief was.

Thor wipes his eyes. “She’s bested you, brother.” He hauls the birds over his back and walks back the direction they came, not waiting for Loki or his obvious irateness. “Perhaps she is Your Darcy after all.”

+

That Night.

It’s storming. Still, she hears the door creak. The mattress bends. The smell of leather and earth announces who she knows it is. She rolls into him, slotting her icy feet with his. 

“You’re awake.” His voice is low, whispered.

“Apparently.” She swallows her yawn and burrows into his warmth. He holds her like that, all folded up into him. 

She thinks she sleeps. But maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she lies there, breathing with him for hours until she feels it. A stirring, a flutter. She sits up, he’s awake now if he wasn’t before. 

“Something’s happening.” Darcy says as calmly as she can. 

Loki turns the light by the bed on. “What is? The baby?”

Darcy shakes her head. “I don’t know, yes!” She feels her pulse speeding up. No stress, she reminds herself. Stress is bad.

“You don’t know if it’s the baby or yes it is the baby?” Loki frowns.

She hears as much as she feels her exasperation with him, and pulls his hand towards her abdomen so that he trips into the bed. “Do your magic thing!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He says, tension weaving in. “You have to tell me--”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been pregnant before! How am I supposed to tell you what’s going on?!” Darcy throws her hands in the air. The stirring makes her nerves spike. She’s shaking. 

Loki moves behind her, forcing her to breath deeply with him as his chest moves with the inhale. He reaches around and under, cool hands sending goose-flesh up her arms. He says something about relaxing, and she feels it. She melts into his arms while he rubs over her lower abdomen. The fluttering in her womb happens again, and as suddenly as she had felt calm, she feels alert again. He’s saying her name urgently.

“What’s wrong?” She twists to try and see his face.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. She’s moving.”

Darcy processes what he’s said. “Already?”

He takes her hands in his, placing them over the raucous in her womb. “You didn’t think our child would be anything but hyperactive, did you?”

Darcy laughs, choking on her own heart while thinking of a child with unmanageably thick hair and green eyes destroying the tiny apartment she’d pictured earlier. Crayon on the wall, half naked, covered in something sticky. “Hey,” Darcy whispers to the flutter. “I love you.”

Loki rests his chin on her shoulder, carding his fingers between her, caressing her digits and the skin below her navel. “I love you.”

She knows he’s talking to the baby, and that the flip-flopping of her stomach is the baby too. The breath against her ear and light kiss were from the moment. Not directed towards her. It wasn’t her heart quickening to hear him say it. It was the life they’d created. The life they loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm biased, but I think this has some of my favorite scenes so far :) I've loved hearing from you all on tumblr! (surprisingriceff)
> 
> And, as always, your comments and kudos keep me young ;) I hope you like this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!   
> xx


	16. Sore

Two Months Later....

He wakes up again sweating, despite the chill of the room. As carefully as he can, he lifts her calf that is using his own as a pillow. Her hair, usually so soft and silky, is tangled. Her snoring is endearing. She’ll blame it on that if she wakes up, he’s sure. So he quietly leaves the room. 

The passageway is silent. Stark must’ve soundproofed the walls. He’s grateful for that. Odin knows what he’d do if he’d had to be confined to hearing his roommates all night long. Still, he’s surprised to hear a crackle in the woodstove as he climbs the staircase. 

“Hey, beautiful. Did I wake you?” Darcy’s mismatched socks waggle at him in lieu of her hands. 

Thor tries to keep his chuckle mute. “No, Darcy. I woke myself.”

Despite the couple of pounds she’s gained, her balance is off. She clumsily adjusts her position on the couch, and pats it. Being too disoriented to do otherwise, he obeys.

“The dream, again?” 

He swears she and Loki are becoming more alike every day. “How--”

Darcy breathes deeply and grimaces. “Wish I could say mother’s intuition, but...” She points at her bump and mouths 'Magic'. “I keep getting glimpses of things that.... Well they aren’t MY dreams.”

Thor feels his muscles coil. Though Darcy has proved herself capable over and over, he wouldn’t wish these dreams on anyone. 

“So, which is it? The one with Tony and Steve trying to kill each other? Or the one with all the fire-y Godzilla stuff?” Darcy yawns, thinking aloud more than conversing. “Or is it the one where you’re falling through... ice, maybe? Or is it the one where you leave, over, and over, and over again?”

She comes back to herself, and flinches. “Sorry, I...I’m just frustrated about not getting enough sleep.”

Thor turns this over in his mind a few times before settling his palm on her head. He tussles it gentler than he used too. “No need, I should be the one apologizing. I continue to be surprised by your strength daily.”

She hums, unconvinced. 

The silence eases his concern. Seeing the absurdity of his dreams out in the open strengthens him. Darcy has seen them, and been worried too. But in the end they are as imaginary as any dream Loki’s child has grasped onto. The other dreams, though.... It must've been Loki.... falling through snow....

He realizes the code in Darcy’s ramblings. 

“....And there it is. I was beginning to wonder if you’d heard me.” Darcy chuckles cynically. Tiredly.

Loki has rubbed off on her. 

“Lady, Darcy--”

She shrugs. “Jane is Jane is Jane. You can’t blame her. You are always leaving.” She bites her lip. “Out of curiosity.... Is that a family trait, or...?”

It’s his turn to tease, and Darcy is a fair opponent. “You should probably ask someone more reliable than me.”

The headache behind his eye throbs, and he decides to go lie back down. When he passes the room where Darcy and Loki have been sleeping, he’s unsurprised to find the silhouette of his brother leaning in the doorway.

“How much does a sleeping spell bleed?” Finally acknowledging Loki when his fingers rest on the handle.

“Not much, if you know how to do it. Why do you ask, brother dear? Need a favor?” Loki’s response is predictably sour.

Thor grunts with similar strain. “I’m asking for a friend.” He hopes his pointed look penetrates through the shadows.

Loki’s thoughts churn loudly. “On your head be it, then. I won’t be kind to your ‘Friends’ if they threaten me.”

It’s enough for him. If he could as easily take away Jane’s worries, he would face a thousand Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long..... I have an itch for these two again, and have a better idea of how to tell the story. Please take this as an apology and a tide-me-over until I can do better xx


	17. Resistance

She begins each day earlier than she should. Usually it’s to pee. But after that, Darcy lies in bed next to Loki, watching the morning light change the color of her room. She has no idea why they keep doing this. Pretending like it’s normal for them to cohabitate so closely. Like they’re together. Like it’s more than “just sex”.

She stretches when the sun starts to warm. If he rouses a little, they distract themselves from another empty day by stroking each other until they forget. After she’s breathless, she goes to shower. Some days she’s surprised by the protrusion around her middle. Some days she hardly notices. 

Jane insists they go for walks. Apparently she read somewhere that walking was good for pregnant ladies. Thor sometimes comes with, and Darcy has realized it’s his way of escaping the dreams she sometimes catches parts of. If Loki knows their baby is acting like a walkie-talkie on acid, he hasn’t mentioned it. He’s always on edge, so she doesn’t bother him with it. Jane too, knows nothing. 

It seemed to Darcy that as the rest of them sickened of their isolation, Jane blossomed. Her complexion brightened, and she was in better shape than ever before. It was miraculous what a regulated and stress-free schedule could do to people. As for herself....

Darcy hated being pregnant. She hardly had a balloon under her shirt, but it was impossible to be comfortable. As the baby’s bones hardened, the little flutters which once made her heart skip turned to stabbing reminders of why she was always irritable. 

“But you have an excuse, Darcy. What’s Loki’s?” Jane’s teasing was said in cheerfulness, but Darcy had to agree. 

When he wasn’t barnacle-ing onto her room, she hardly saw him out on the main floor. Occasionally she’d find him at the end of the rickety, old dock; looking out at nothing. Perhaps it was because she and Thor expected it of his nature, but Jane often remarked about how anti-social he was....almost like she wished him not to be.

“Stubbornness,” Thor grumped. “There’s nothing we can do to change that in him.”

Jane shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. You weren’t exactly easy-going when I first met you.”

Darcy didn’t hide her snort, but trudged ahead of the couple in her muddy wellies. She still wondered where SHIELD had hidden them, sometimes. But if she had to guess, she’d say somewhere Scandinavian. Or maybe a really soggy part of Canada. 

“I learned my lesson. Besides, it was a stressful time in my life.” Thor’s bruised ego peeked through. 

Jane placated him by threading her arm through his. “Loki’s probably pretty stressed right now,” She said.

That stopped her. “Hang on a minute. I love what all this exercise is doing for you, really. But you’re starting to really freak me out here, Janey. Why are you so team Loki these days?”

Jane thought a moment, pulling Thor closer for warmth. “He seems lost, I guess.”

She didn’t elaborate. If Thor had an answer for that, he didn’t say it. Darcy didn’t think she had one either.

+

He could hear the muted laughter and closing of a door echoing around the mist. It didn’t matter to him if they were home or not, they were as vulnerable outside as in. He wasn’t sure why he kept watch other than instinct. There was no perimeter to this cage. There were no chains. No defenses. 

Hiding in plain sight he was used too. Hiding in plain sight without Magic had made him paranoid. 

The dark, utilitarian room would’ve been welcome to him as a prison, given his previous chambers. Now, it was all he could do to not guard her door while she slept. He could tell his little girl was strong. It made him as proud as he was scared. She could destroy her mother, and yet she hardly had a skeleton. More than worry for Darcy, he worried she would alert Thanos to his trace. 

Every thought came with an echo of self-loathing. He wished he could indulge the anxiety that kept him awake. He wished he could deprive his body of care and waste away. He itched to be destructive. But for Darcy’s sake he couldn’t. He had no doubt she’d care if he “threw a tantrum”, but the manic energy he had pent up would release like a flare into the cosmos.

“Loki?” The tone in her voice told him she’d said his name more than once.

By the Norns she was glorious. His mouth went dry, and he stood to be closer to her. “Darcy?”

Her full lips quirk. “Jane’s making cocoa. If you want some.” There was something else she wasn’t saying, tightening the space between her brows.

He steps closer. “I’ll come if you want.” 

Then she snaps, tilting her hips in a way that would have been natural before she began to show. “Ugh, you can be such a shithead sometimes! Don’t do something just because I ask!”  
Loki raises his brows. “Now, this is a first for me.”

Darcy opens and closes her fists with a growl. “Oh, my god. You’re such an asshole! Can’t we have a serious conversation for once?”

Loki doesn’t point out that he’s had more sincere conversations with her than anyone else.

“I feel like we’re playing fuck-and-go-seek, or something! It’s freaking me out. And when I freakout, she freaks out! And if she freaks out, she kills me!” Darcy’s shrillness is righteous, if confusing. 

He takes her hands, crushing them to his chest so she’s forced to focus on him. “I won’t let that happen.”

She seems stunned for a moment. He realizes the gesture is too much, to revealing. They drop hands like the air between them has become scalding. Darcy’s flush makes her even more beautiful than before. Her eyes shine. The wisps of hair that plastered themselves with her exercise have curled into a halo in the fog. Not for the first time he’s stunned by her mortality. How is it possible when she radiates what she does?

“I’m not really scared of dying, or anything.” She mumbles awkwardly. “I-I believe you’re looking out for us. It’s just that, well, you’re practically living with me. I mean, like, we are anyway. But your soap is next to mine. Your razor’s next to my face wash. Our laundry is mixed together. And it’s like... so nocturnal, you know? At night we’re playing this weird game, and during the day.... It’s like you can’t stand to be around me.”

He’s so taken aback he freezes. Of all the things she could be worrying over.... “It’s not like that, Darcy.”

She shakes her head. “No, but it is! You don’t get to say that, because things are totally weird and I’m....What am I to you?” Her sudden resolve on the question frightens him.

What is she to him? More than he cares to admit. She’s so much more important to him than he ever meant for her to be, and if he told her the extent, she’d be afraid of him. She’d be disgusted.

He does what he’s best at. Diverting attention. 

“I worry about our safety. I worry about what I have gotten us all into with my... youthful vanity and desire for revenge.” It’s not a lie. It’s the best he can offer.

She knows what he’s doing, and it thrills him. She lets it go, and if she’s disappointed, she hides it. “AND you worry about a certain hammer. Or maybe a scientist?”  
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I tremble in the presence of idiocy.”

Darcy laughs, shaking her head. “Will you at least come eat with me and the boogeymen, then?”

He hesitates, but agrees to please her. 

+

It’s after dinner, when he would usually slither away, that she makes her move. When he stands to put their plates in the sink, her hand lingers purposefully. He acknowledges the plea with a small nod and grimace, but it feels like victory to her. 

A victory in what? What game are they playing.

It makes her head hurt.

Or maybe it’s her stupid baby. 

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something, Darce?” Jane asks, noticing that her friend isn’t filled with her usual passion for post-dinner board games. 

Darcy shrugs apathetically. “I’m just so bored. And bloated. And I have to pee. AGAIN.” 

After the trek to and from the bathroom, she’s surprised to see Jane curled in what’s usually her own chair. The reason why, she realizes, is in the shape of Loki watching her anxiously. Imploring her with his eyes to sit next to him and fend off the couple of the year’s poignant stares. 

Darcy sits, and her aim is bad. Her balance is way off lately. As a result, she’s sitting much closer to him than she’d like, but before she can crab-scoot away, he takes her hand. Darcy, not looking at him when this happens, makes eye contact with Jane. Her friend isn’t the most subtle creature. Jane raises a brow, and pulls a face that says, “Huh. Interesting. Not surprising, but strange anyway.”

She wonders if Loki has turned them blue by the little jump and cough that Thor gives (minutes later) when he notices. She’s sure he’s noticed, and expects snide remarks. Instead, he stares straight ahead into the fire, leaning away from her into the arm of the sofa. His hand still entwined with hers between them. 

Darcy is vaguely aware of Thor and Jane sifting through records (because SHIELD is weird and let them have only outdated forms of entertainment). The two of them discuss things. The differences between planetary cultures. The subtle genius of Fleetwood Mac.

If both men didn’t look like characters out of Middle Earth, she’d think she had taken a time machine back to highschool. For the first time, she’s not a third wheel. It’s almost like a double date.

She chuckles and Loki forfeits his staring contest with the fireplace. 

“Who’s your favorite band, Loki?” She enjoys her private joke. 

“Led Zeppelin.” 

She feels the wind get knocked out of her. “Wait. Seriously?”

His response is a challenging smirk.

“I’m impressed,” Darcy says in disbelieving belief. 

“And yours, Darcy Lewis?” His voice sinks into her like his cock has done so many times before. It leaves her hot and shallow-breathed. “Who’s your favorite band?”

“A band called Death Cab For Cutie. You’ve probably never heard of ‘em.” She tosses back with a smirk.

“You should introduce them to me, then.” He purrs.

Darcy could bang him right then and there. 

“Hey!” Jane throws a pillow. “No making out in common areas!”

Loki’s offended face has Darcy falling backwards in laughter. 

“Loki!” Thor perks up. “Will you pass the Oreos?” 

His response is as baffled as before. Darcy can’t remember the last time she laughed this hard. The darkness of the eternal winter around them has become cozy. The gentle hazing of the Asgardians, combined with reminiscing through Jane’s favorite records and CDs, make for a entertaining evening. After a time, they even risk playing Scattergories. They mostly debate and hardly play. Darcy wouldn’t have had it any other way. The dynamic between them all ebbs and flows from who’s ganging up on who. It feels so right. It feels impossible.

When she finally stumbles into her room that night, she’s so happy-- that she’s bewildered to find herself alone. Remembering their conversation from earlier, she decides Loki’s absence is a positive outcome. Even if she feels lonely. This is what she had wanted, right? A clear definition of where she stood. A distinct commitment to behavior and boundaries. She takes a deep breath and is relieved to burp into the empty room without feeling self-conscious. 

She gets ready for bed and starts to wander her way into anxious thoughts. She wears her ugly PJs, but second guesses his reactions to her jokes that night. Was his compliance and disappearance a passive aggressive response to her pushing him for answers? Was her desire for justification too much to ask for, in their position? Did he see her as a vehicle for sexual release? Or an incubator for his heir? She gags on her toothpaste. Not only in frustration with her hormone addled thoughts, but also because toothpaste made her queasy these days. 

She groans when she realizes she’s dropped her toothbrush under the cupboard beneath the sink. She crouches slowly, but can’t quite reach it. She gives up with a small scream and marches down the hall, not stopping to knock on his door, but kicking at it instead.

When he opens it, confused, she doesn’t give an inch. Not this time.

“What am I to you?”

He looks at her like she’s crazy (she is. Stupid baby mamma brain). 

She shoves past him, planting herself in the middle of the room. “What kind of stupid, god of gas lighting, shitty game are you playing with me?”

“Darcy,” He begins tiredly.

“Look, I know I’m mortal, and I get that I’m coming of a bit unhinged, but--but...” She takes a deep breath. “Do you wanna just fuck me, or play house? Because I can’t go back and forth. Or do you wanna go back to planet domination? Because A: I didn’t sign up for that, and B: I’ll win in a custody battle, so. Fight me.” She hadn’t stopped to breathe until she’d finished saying it. She stops pacing to watch him.

His face is blank. 

All she can hear is her inner mantra of, ‘Shitshitshitshit.’

She feels faint. “Um... I’m sorry. I just. Dropped my toothbrush. And you weren’t there, so...” 

He scoffs in disbelief. “YOU complained about me sleeping in your room!”

She winces. “Yeah, I’m... um. I have pregnant brain. I’ve been out of wack all day. Sorry, I’ll just... goooo...” She shuffles away but not before he stops and kisses her thoroughly.

It’s hot and angry, and she digs her nails into his collarbones when he bites her lip. The kiss tastes metallic, and he holds her firmly in place while their tongues fight for dominance. He backs her into the wall, and she can’t help but hitch her leg up while he rolls his hips into her. She’s confused. By how good it feels. How frustrated they are with each other. She turns her head with a cruel smile, deliberately appearing apathetic to his kisses. It feels good, but she resents him in that moment. 

“Look at me, Darcy,” He pants. “Look at me!” He swats the part of her bum that’s accessible to him because of the leg she’s still using to encourage his rutting hips. When she stares stonily at him he swats her again, grabbing her closer to him so she can feel how much he wants to fuck it all away.

It feels so good, christ. So good.

She wills her body to let go of him. To step away.

“Darcy,” He moans, leaning against the wall where she was just in his arms. “Let’s not do this.”

She feels traitorous hormones dragging a lump into her throat. “I’m going to bed.”

“Darcy,” He rubs a hand over his face, grimacing like he’s about to be sick.

She opens the door. “We can talk in the-”

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. This is more writing than I've done in AGESSSS.... Let me know what you guys think, please. I've been so worried about picking this up again, and I hope it lives up to expectations. 
> 
> Seriously, thank you guys so much for following this still. Your support makes writing again easier.


	18. Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for suggestions of self harm and anxiety attacks. Mild, but it's there.

Two Years Earlier.

Though Odin’s rooms are infinitely more comfortable than any he’s had, it’s impossible for Loki to sleep. It’s a tomb. With an aggravated sigh, he sheds the king’s skin. Even in his own flesh, he can’t escape the whispers that have come from being lord of the Aesir. All he wants is peace. But even when he mutes the larger conversation....His own thoughts torment him. The claws of the Chitauri are never truly gone. He rolls his shoulder to loosen himself from the memory, only to be griped by another headache. His problem with Thanos....It’s a debt unfulfilled. He’s heard what Thanos does to those who disappoint him. He winces at the memory of being forced to watch as two young girls mutilated themselves at the feet of his creditor. They had called him father.

A wave of nausea causes his skin to perspire. It’s rare for him to feel the discomfort of heat, but it sticks to him. He has been here before, with this steady ache of anxiety. There’s no need to panic. 

But he does. 

It is impossible for him to breathe regularly.

In the oceanic din of a thousand thoughts, Thor’s surfaces for a moment. It is a request for knowledge, for strength. Something disturbing is happening on Midgard. He can’t bring himself to care. Whatever skirmishes his “brother” faces with his precious Avengers do not trouble him in Asgard. Thor will either outgrow their petty concerns. Midgardians, he knows first hand, need to be shepherded. They are weak minded, and prone to chaos.

He smiles. They are a people he would’ve enjoyed ruling.

As it is, the moaning of the Aesir--Thor’s included--are driving him mad. His inability to control his own mind manifests as a writhing snake in the pit of his stomach. He lashes out, tearing into one of Odin’s idyllic tapestries with snarling fangs. If he frees his Jotun form for only a moment, he dissociates from that reality.

Thor’s anxiety melds with his, fighting for his father’s ear as they did when they were younger. As he destroys his mother’s weaving, he shudders at the contrast between those two sisters in Thanos’ court, with him and Thor. No family was perfect. All families have secrets that slither beneath the surface, darkness that hunts in the shadows. He closes Odin’s grace from Thor. Sooner or later he’ll see the true natures of his Avengers. See that for all their gilded ideation, there is a tormented, glutinous, motive beneath. 

When the threads settle around him, the magic whisper of Frigga’s artistry evaporated, he finds quiet. He rests his head against the cool stones of the wall. His reflection in the large mirror mocks him: he’ll always end up like this. In a tomb or a prison, exhausted by his own fate.  
A dark, cool, hand rests on his shoulder. Whispers in his ear. She frightens him. She is a whisper he has heard many times, even before the Odin Sight. Before Thanos. She reaffirms his weaknesses. Places a weapon in his hand. 

Once again, he’s tempted. There are lies he tells himself to justify his actions, and he uses those same lies to punish himself afterwards. A steady drip of poison in his mind. 

“Aw, fuck.” 

He opens his eyes. A pretty brunette trying to shave a specific portion of her ankle fills his vision. Her blood streams thinly, feathering into the lines of her skin. 

From this angle, he has a perfect view of her ass. She’s wrapped it in tighter, neater, fabric than she usually does. Her hair is blown out, and she struggles to contain her curves beneath the professional clothing. 

“Great job, Darce. Walk into an interview with band-aids all over like a fucking pre-teen.” She fusses with the fastening that draws more attention to her bust than the modest attire wants. “Alright Mr. Odin, Thor, or whatever freaky-deeky god is listening up there,” She gives herself a once over. “This is as good as it’s gonna get. Please don’t let SHIELD smite me.”

All other responsibilities have fled his brain. He’s happy to be utterly preoccupied with Darcy Lewis and her cock-twitching interview attire. He flicks a wrist evaporates the destruction in Asgard, making himself comfortable to watch from the large bed. From his lounging position, he smiles at the confident swagger to her hips on her way to meet with his brother’s so-called friends. He smirks, conjuring entertainment for himself in the form of a button popping off it’s seams. 

Loki can’t help but chuckle at her cursing, settling in for a happy diversion, indeed.

+

The Present.

He’s about to be sick.

“I’m sorry?” Darcy turns on him. Her face hard, and unreadable.

No lie comes to his tongue. No distraction. Loki’s mind is blank in horror.

“Did you just say,” She takes a measured step towards him. “That you _love_ me?”

The way she grinds out the word does not bode well for him. There are a great many tricks he could use, but she sees through them all. And he knows better than to try them. Still, he’s not without options if she presses him. He readies his defences.

“Did you _seriously_ just _fuck-ing_ say that you _love_ me?” 

Definitely not happy, then, he notes.

“And what of it?” He challenges.

Darcy’s entire posture changes. Her expression drops into incredulity. “ _And what of it?_ Really? Oh my god you’re such a...” She looks around, as if requesting support from thin air.

He tries not to let this unsettle him. “Most people handle such a declaration with at least a _modicum_ of respect,” he draws himself up to look down on her.

“You’re a spoiled, arrogant, dick. You know that?” Her tone is icy and even. Whatever frying Darcy’s hormones had done to her nervous system, she had them under control now. “The kind of balls it takes to use ‘I love you’ as a cop out is just...wow. Just. Fucking. Wow, Loki.”

Her crass tongue usually turns him on with it’s boldness. Never before has it offended him, until now. “A ‘cop out?’ You think I’d insult you, the mother of my--”

“There it is,” Darcy pounces. “I can’t fucking _stand_ that shit. I’m so tired of you treating me like I’m some sort of Russian nesting doll, or something. What about me? What about the girl you stalked and kidnapped? You know, the one you bone every time you get bored?”

She chokes on the words. He can tell she’s struggling to articulate herself. It pangs him, and frustrates him, as much as her. Without thinking, he reaches for her. 

Instantly he sees the untapped anxiety he’s felt before. The coiled snake of unwantedness. The hidden beast that gnaws on insecurities. And something else. Something that has his name on it, a feeling she clearly wants to ignore. 

+

She’s used to feeling like she’s going to vomit. The sense of vertigo she has, shoving him away from her, goes beyond any morning sickness. She feels violated. 

They stare at each other. She feels her knees give out, and doesn’t have the ability to shake free of the arms that try to stop her fall. 

He’s murmuring her name, holding her in his arms, huddled on the floor. The room hasn’t stopped spinning. 

“I’m sorry,” He pleads. “I didn’t mean to....”

She pulls away from him. He has the wisdom to let her. “Who gave you the right to do that?”

He’s paler than usual. It could be the sliver of moonlight. Or maybe her vision is still wonky. “It was instinct, I apologize, I....” He deflates. “Are you alright?”

She’s suspicious of him. Has she ever had a genuine conversation with him? Her heart drops, remembering her trepidation in that cabin in Tromso, hardly six months ago. 

“Aside from being an idiot, yeah, I’m fine.”

The foreign sensation of her baby moving centers her. This is her fate, no matter how chaotic it might be. 

“You’re trembling,” He moves to her carefully. 

“I’m cold.” She lies. 

“Darcy,” Loki takes her hands between his, begging her to look at him. “You... have captured me. My heart...it’s yours.” 

Her heart jumps to her throat, and she can’t help but search his eyes to see if he’s tricking her. Loki’s gaze can hardly meet hers, he stammers on, gripping her hands tighter. 

“I was in torment...and you were...you.” He laughs, surprising them both. “You reminded me of what it could be like. I have no excuses, and don’t want my troubles to touch you-- either of you.” 

They’re knee to knee at the foot of his bed, and Darcy is absurdly reminded of a certain scene in West Side Story that she was forced to watch in high school. The fear and adrenaline she recognizes shocks her with a reality no one could have planned: they love each other. Her heart and blood leaps for him, and she grips tighter. She grips tighter because she remembers the story that soapy musical was based off of. “Civil blood” is the least of their worries. 

“You’ve been the center of my attention for longer than is probably healthy,” He rushes on, taking courage in her grasp. “I am constantly enraptured by you, Darcy. I love you. I don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

He has nothing to barter with, she knows. He says all of it without a need-- because what can he get from her that he already hasn’t? And so, she decides.

 

“We’d fight a lot more,” She offers.

He kisses her forehead, eyelashes, temple. He brings her tightly against him, their child barely in the way. “I’d welcome it.”

“We’ll have to figure out this whole baby thing, too. And you’d have to get help with your psychotic breakdowns.” 

His response is lost in kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. I wanted to further the plot more in this.... but these two are surprisingly emotional and this was a beast for me in the end! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. It's 2 A.M. and I'm afraid of how it will come across hahaha :P aaaaand your feedback keeps this thing on track :) Honestly, you all are so great. It's a pleasure to write for you <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an experiment for me, but will be mult chap. I don't necessarily have any grand plans with it, so send me your prompts and if I like it, I'll weave it in :) I post faster with feedback because I'm trash! <3
> 
> p.s: this is un-beta'd, and while I love the English language like a good little English minor, I don't care about typos and grammar a ton because I'm a dick like that. If anything is just downright terrible or confusing tho, lemme know and I'll fix it.


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